The Great Game
by corruptedPOV
Summary: Dougie Poynter, Consulting Criminal, one of the most dangerous men in London. Harry Judd, assassin for hire and Dougie's right hand man, one of the most deadly men in London. Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones, Consulting Detective and his faithful blogger. When Tom and Danny start to solve Dougie's perfectly made crimes, he decides to sort out his little detective problem... (TBC)
1. Chapter 1

**This fic came about because I've become very, very obsessed with Sherlock, and in the back of my head I've had this image of an evil Pudd going on a killing spree, don't ask me why, I'm not sure myself. That image coupled with the Sherlock obsession, and a love of villains, especially Moriarty, this kinda came about. I haven't finished writing this yet so updates may be a bit slower than Without You I'm Not A Survivor, and sometimes characters may seem a bit off, but that's mostly because I'm still working out the kinks of the story. **

**But anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Also, reading = commenting :)**

* * *

Summary: Dougie Poynter, Consulting Criminal, one of the most dangerous men in London. Harry Judd, assassin for hire and Dougie's right hand man, one of the most deadly men in London. Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones, Consulting Detective and his faithful blogger. When Tom and Danny start to solve Dougie's perfectly made crimes, he decides to sort out his little detective problem, starting the greatest game and battle of impossible intelligence the world has ever seen. A murder spree, a planted trainer in a flat and so little evidence that Tom may never understand who Dougie is, or how wide his criminal network is. And if he does, will he and Danny survive Dougie and Harry's deadly game?

Prologue

"Sir, I have the files you requested." A nameless minion came in, after knocking carefully on my door.

"Oh thank you very much. Wait here a minute." I grabbed the files off the short woman, smirking as I browsed the files at my leisure, trying to find the _perfect _one. It didn't take me long, one caught my eye the second I opened the page, just by his pretty face. A quick glance at his record and I knew.

"This one, bring me this Harry Judd. Send our best team, tell them to capture him, but don't rough him up too much, they know the drill." I smirked, sending the woman skittering out of the room again, knowing my request would be done within the day. I didn't like waiting for new toys, especially when I had special plans for this one. There would be _dire _consequences for making me wait.

"Sir, he's just about to wake up." Another minion told me, not daring to look at my face as he did.

"Excellent." I swept my feet off the table, walking down to the cell the subject was being kept in.

He was tied to a chair, squinting to see in the dark, surrounded by some of my best guards. All of them trained marksmen, experts in hand to hand combat, excelling at kidnaps and torture. Just my favourite type of men. If this Harry could beat them, I'd know I'd found my knew right hand man, if not, well, a bit of collateral damage never hurt.

"What do you want? Where am I?" Harry growled, he had a simply _delicious _jaw line, and beautiful blue eyes. I could have happily gotten lost in them. Oh the thoughts I was having over what I could do to damage that perfect face, if he passed, I was going to _love _this one.

My men didn't say a word, as per their instructions, not even twitching at his demands. Until somehow, he escaped from the chair and within minutes he had taken down all five men around him, some dead, some just knocked unconscious. _Wow. _I liked this one.

"I think its time to meet our new guest." I left the control room, going down to the cell, opening the door without even caring that he had a gun in his hands, pointing it at me, like he'd actually shoot. Adorable.

"Who are you?! What do you want with me?" Harry growled again, the gun pointed in my direction.

"My, you do like putting on a show, don't you?" I smiled, hands in the air, like I was innocent too.

"Huh? What do you want? I will shoot you if you don't start talking!" Harry threatened, gun pointing to my head.

"Oh you don't need to shoot me, I'll tell you everything you want to know. I'm offering you a once in a life time opportunity you won't want to miss." I offered, dangling the bait.

"Really? I don't believe you." Harry chuckled humourlessly.

"Well, I'm offering you a job. A job you won't want to turn down, so you may want to listen carefully." I said, watching cogs turn into his head. Watching ordinary people work out things was sometimes adorable, sometimes, others it was just tedious. This time, it was, well, _intriguing._

"How do you know I won't want to turn it down? Who are you?" Harry asked again, cogs turning again, not getting anywhere whatsoever.

"Well because you simply can't, you're in debt, very much in debt. The army pension you've got isn't doing anything to keep you housed properly if you also want to eat. You can't get a job for more than a week as you find everything monotonous and boring, which is not helping you whatsoever. I'm offering you a job where you won't be bored, you'll be paid substantially for your time, and I'll even put you up in a nicer place that can actually fit your things in. For all of this, all I ask of you is to be my right hand man, protect me from my enemies, dispatch of others, go on the occasional mission when I need you too. It's all I ask, and I'm not stingy in my pay either." I watched his eyes spark in interest.

"All you ask is that I do what? Help you out like some kind of bodyguard?" Harry looked disbelievingly at me.

"Oh much more than a bodyguard, so much more. I'll tell you all about it over dinner if you wish." I explained, seeing the signs of him starting to agree.

"What's your name first? Name and job title." Harry started to cave in.

"I'm Dougie Poynter, the world's only Consulting Criminal. So what do say, will you join me?" I held out a hand, watching him drop the gun and grab onto my offered limb. I smirked, _just as I planned. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Pudd forever - thanks!**

**guest - thank you!**

* * *

1 Harry's POV - 3 months later

Dougie shoved me back into the bedroom, slamming me into a wall, attacking my mouth with his own. His hands fisted into my hoodie, yanking it off my shoulders and ripping off my top in a lust filled dash.

"What you did in there, with that knife, oh my Harry, that was _delicious." _Dougie giggled, fiddling with my belt.

"Well, I know how to please." I smirked, loosening his tie.

"Oh you do, and Daddy loves it." Dougie helped me get off his shirt, feverish kisses being placed all over.

But then, something vibrated in Dougie's pocket... Not a good thing vibrating either. Soon the sound of the Bee Gee's 'Staying Alive' rung out, spoiling the moment completely.

"Ugh, really, now? We're busy." Dougie grumbled, fishing the phone out and answering, listening to what the person on the other side was saying. "Say that again? Say that one more time and think _very _carefully about what you're telling me right now. It better be good or I will skiiiiiiiiiiiiin you and turn you into shoes, got it?" Dougie's face went from really quite turned on to the most _terrifying _mask of anger, twisting almost unrecognisably as he threatened the person on the other end of the line.

That was Dougie all over though, he was happy when business was going along swimmingly, but if things went wrong, he got _angry. _And when he made a threat, he _meant _it, and he really would follow through, seen him do it first hand, or done it for him several times too. Some would call it him being psychotic, he'd laugh, agree and continue on. Being psychotic kept people scared, people being scared kept them under his thumb, business got done when people were scared of their boss. More importantly, it got done _well. _

"Right I'm coming down. And when I get there you better have your facts straight, if this is another screw up with stops our trading in India I will not be pleased! I've spent years building up this business and if you've ruined it you'll be so sorry, the shoe holes will be made while you're still conscious!" Dougie hissed, shoving his shirt back on, straightening his tie and pulling on his jacket, running out the door, "Stay here Harry, I'll be back soon. Either that or I'll call you because I'm going to need your assistance in sorting out these morons." He raced out the door, slamming it behind him.

I sighed, wandering over to the window, watching him get into the blacked out car and drive off. After he'd left the mansion completely I turned and flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. That was the second time this month we'd been interrupted when having sex, or just private time, by the business. Not that I minded the business, it was keeping me here, and occupied, and obviously with Dougie. Though, I did wish everyone working for him weren't so stupid. That was what you got when you worked with idiots and all the minions_ were_ idiots. Well, that and Dougie was a certified genius, he was honestly had the most incredible mind I'd ever seen.

Dougie knew everything about everybody, had eyes everywhere, and contacts across the world. He _controlled _crime, fixed crimes for others, controlled several gangs and drug rings, everything you could possibly think of, he knew someone who could make it happen. That wasn't what made him clever though, he was honestly cleverer than Einstein and Hawking put together, he was the most brilliant man I had ever met. Completely mad, absolutely sadistic and psychotic, but brilliant nonetheless.

I couldn't help but be attracted to him, he kept my boredom away by sending me on missions to get information out of gangs we didn't control, get more info out of some of our prisoners with some _interesting _methods. Sometimes I was sent out to assassinate someone too. But mostly I was Dougie's right hand man, his personal bodyguard if you will. I went almost everywhere with him, hiding in the shadows, checking for danger, dispatching of anybody who got in the way or posed a threat. Not that many people threatened Dougie, they didn't _dare. _And this had only started three months ago, time had gone so fast, _he_ had taken over my life so fast. And somehow, we'd fallen into this relationship, where'd we blow off steam by having sex. I wasn't sure if we were a couple or not. Either way, I was actually quite happy with it. Me and my psychopath, the only Consulting Criminal in all of the world and his master assassin. It had a nice ring to it, don't you think?


	3. Chapter 3

**Before I post the chapter, I just want to say thank you for the great comments on this fic, I haven't been sure about it for a while, because if anything, I am a perfectionist with my characterisation and I was really scared I wasn't getting Dougie accurately like Moriarty, as there's so little actual screen time of him to study. I've been blown away by your enthusiasm for this fic, for which I thank you so much!**

**guest 1 - thank you! :D**

**Pudd forever - thank you, that means a lot to me! :)**

**The Unlikely Suspect - thank you! :)**

**guest 2 - oh yes, he's a bit of a wild one, he needs a bit of taming!**

* * *

2 Dougie's POV

I wasted two hours hissing orders at idiots who could barely put on foot in front of the other. How hard was it to track a shipment of guns across Europe, really? It couldn't have been _that _hard! I could have done it with my eyes shut! These people were hired _specifically_ for this job, and yet they still couldn't do their jobs, pathetic!

I should have brought Harry, weed out the worst of a bad bunch, set an example. Maybe with some shootings, a neck snap here or there. Hmm, I'd remember that next time...

"And don't forget what I said! Forget one more time and none of you will be breathing for much longer!" I growled, spinning round and storming back out of the warehouse, slumping into my blacked out car. Obviously it was a Rolls Royse, in jet black, accompanied with blacked out windows. The best of intimidation, brought out the fear of opponents and minions alike. And, all for free too, oh sometimes it paid to have connections across all the major companies. Or at least blackmail to use against them. Sometimes I loved being me.

The car drove me home, up to the mansion, which was gained through blackmail, making my way up to Harry. He was a wonderful pet, I must admit. Painfully ordinary in his IQ, but the best shot I'd ever seen. I'd never actually seen anybody shoot as well as he had, but I guessed that came with the army training he'd had. He didn't have a single tremor in his hands, shooting any gun I gave him, bang on any target I gave him too. Combat, not an issue either, hand to hand, martial arts, anything I gave him, again, was perfect. I'd definitely picked the right man for the job all those weeks ago.

But somehow, he'd become more than my right hand man, and a bit more than a pet too actually. I'd never thought I'd view someone who was of lesser intelligence as more than just a pet, but with Harry it felt slightly different. Not much, but a little bit different at least. Maybe because he actually followed orders and didn't talk back, and seemed to quite like being round me anyway. I didn't have to torture him first, he just _liked _me. It was quite interesting, and obviously was so much easier than going through all the annoying steps of creating a situation for Stockholm Syndrome to develop. That was far too time consuming, with Harry it was a connection that came within days of our acquaintance. Even with my activities and business included. I was keeping this one, that was for sure.

"Hey, sorted everything out at the warehouse?" Harry asked as I shucked my designer suit, crawling into bed next to him.

"Yeah, should have brought you though, would have been easier with an attack dog in tow." I sighed, leaning on his chest. He was the only one I'd do that with too, I'd never crawled into someone's arms to sleep, allowed myself to let my guard down. Harry did have quite the effect.

"Mmm, probably would have. Oh well, I'll come next time." Harry greed, putting his arm around my side.

"Good, I need some entertainment. I'm so bored, currently this is all just business. While fun, it is boring at times. There are too many idiots and not enough _fun, _I want a challenge damn it!" I groaned, wishing that I had something to _do _sometimes. It was all far too easy! Everything was just simple crime and smuggling things, occasionally setting up crimes for other people, and sorting out stupid minions mistakes, it was too easy and monotonous! I wanted a challenge! A really hard crime to create, with lots of elaborate connections. Or someone with a similar intellect, someone I could face off against. Have a battle of wits against them, drive them mad, recruit them to my side possibly. I wanted to actually have some _fun! _


	4. Chapter 4

**guest - thanks! it is admittedly one of my favourite things, playing with the light and dark side of characters :)**

**Pudd forever - thanks! it means a whole lot to me, as this is mostly an exercise in me trying out villainous characters, its great to here that it's working! :)**

* * *

3 Harry's POV

The day after Dougie's little confession, I was lulling about in his office while he sorted out some more business when one of the lackeys knocked on the door.

"Come in." I called, leaning back on the chair, legs over one arm, head resting on the back, looking at the flustered man. He looked downright _scared... _This could prove interesting. "What is it?" I asked when he situated himself in front of the mahogany desk.

"It's... It's, I think we may have a problem Sir." He stuttered out, not meeting my eyes.

"Well spill it then, I don't have all day." I hurried him, knowing that by now Dougie would have probably have had his head for being so slow. I was slightly nicer to the lackeys around here, but still, if they annoyed me, they _knew _it.

"I-I think, I think there's another, erm, someone of _his _intellect around... And he's working with the police... He solved one of our clients scenarios." The man stuttered again, what did he just say?

"What? Had me that file!" I snatched the file out of his hands, hardly believing him. There was no way there was another man of the same intelligence as Dougie who had solved one of our clients problems. It was one of the things Dougie did, people sometimes wanted to disappear, or needed someone getting rid of but didn't want to get caught, for no small sum of money Dougie gave them a plan and sometimes helped them implement the scenario. It obviously wasn't strictly legal, but since when was _anything _we did legal? We trafficked drugs and people! Tortured others, murdered even more! Legal wasn't exactly our forte, hence _Consulting Criminal. _

But as I read through the file, I realised that this man was right. The police were working with a Consulting Detective of all things, someone who was slowly gaining fame through a blog, solving the impossible cases. And he'd solved one of ours. One of our clients was now in jail because this man had solved their disappearance, realised that our clients wife wasn't as upset as she should have been, figured out our client was in the Bahamas, waiting for his wife to join him in a few months. _F*ck. _

"How did you find this out?" I glared at the man in front of me, noticing he was shaking, _good. _

"I-I, I was scouring police reports... It's my job, to scour them for clients, companies we can take over, or any signs of our jobs being solved... I-It was on the front page of a low level newspaper!" He explained, voice shaking in time with himself.

"Right. I'm going to find Dougie, you go and search for more of this _Consulting Detective._ Dougie will want to know more." I stormed out of the office, heading straight to Dougie, knowing that he'd want to know straight away.

I found him quickly, exactly where I expected him to be. He was down a few floors, looking over some more of the finer details of a bank before we had it robbed. Not for ourselves of course, money wasn't exactly important to us, not when you could blackmail your way through everything, but instead for a client. They wanted to frame another head of the committee of the bank for robbery, Dougie was figuring out how to do it. He was having some trouble with it considering face recognition software was a tough thing to fool, but he liked a puzzle, they were his _favourite _kind of scenario plans.

"Harry I don't care how horny you are, I can't have sex with you now, I'm in the middle of planning." Dougie told me without even turning round to look at me. It always freaked me out when he could tell it was me coming into the room, just by how I walked.

"I don't want sex right now Dougie... I think that we either have a problem, or that 'fun' thing you said you were looking for." I answered, not unused to his blunt responses to our sex life. It was pretty active, and yes I did sometimes get bored and wanted to have a little fun, but I soon learned that if Dougie was in the middle of a puzzle like this, I wasn't getting any. If it was an easy thing that Dougie could do in his sleep, well, that was another matter. Apparently today was a 'do not disturb day' but I was pretty sure he'd want to know this.

"Oh really? What are we talking about here? Incredibly difficult bombers to deal with, government members needing bribes?" Dougie enquired, turning round, but still looking at his papers.

"No, a Consulting Detective." I made him laugh out loud, a sound that should have really come from a child, though Dougie was anything but. I still couldn't believe some days that he'd achieved all of this by the time he was twenty-six years old, but I guessed he had the intelligence, and well, he was _scary _enough to manage it when he needed to be.

"A Consulting Detective?! What a ridiculous notion! There's no such thing! And why would they be anything but an ant under my boot?" Dougie laughed, looking at me now.

"Well if I'm being honest, Consulting Criminals don't really exist either Dougie. But this guy, this guy is _good, _IQ as high as yours if not higher, consults for the police, and has solved the Roberts case." I threw him the file, watching his face carefully to see his reaction to this as he read through the file.

Slowly it went from boredom, to annoyance, to a malicious, evil smile, delight dancing behind his eyes. "Harry, I think we're going to be having a _lot _of fun with this Consulting Detective." Dougie's eyes _beamed. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Pudd forever - we may never know just how much goes through Dougie's head, but we can be sure that it is probably terrifying!**

**guest - thank you! :D**

* * *

4 Dougie's POV

As I read over the file, I felt myself get giddily excited at the prospect of a Consulting Detective. A Consulting Detective who was as clever as I was, who could possibly solve my crimes, figure out it was me. We could have a cat and mouse chase... Or I could recruit him as one of our own, no, I had enough minions, I didn't need another one. Not even with this man's mind, I doubted I'd ever be able to break it fully, not without some time consuming effort. No, it would be more fun to play with this one, chase him.

"So what's the plan with him then?" Harry asked, "We kidnapping him and torturing him into submission?" He cracked his knuckles, always so trigger happy.

"No, no, something _much _more fun with him. We're going to play a game. A very, very _fun_ game. Get his attention, chase him around London, drive him mad, just like before." I laughed, oh _just _like before. This time would prove more of a challenge as we were adults now, but I'd manage it, I was sure I'd manage it. I always did, I wouldn't be as formidable or infamous if I wasn't clever.

"Before, Dougie?" Harry questioned, looking confused, though it wasn't like that didn't happen often, simple minded as he was.

"Yes, before. I've encountered our friend before, a long, long time ago you see. We were just kids at the time; he tried to solve my first murder. He saw all the right things, but only being eleven years old didn't lend itself to being allowed near the evidence. Plus the police didn't believe him, so he got nowhere with it. _But, _but oh he was good, and it was _fun _to hear of him squirming. Watching him do it now, oh it'll be _magic _Harry!" I giggled, clapping my hands in delight.

"Oh, tell me more!" Harry leant forwards in eagerness, eyes sparking with the need for knowledge.

"Not now, I have some planning to do! I need to start setting things up, get things into place to start this game, get him interested," I ran out of the office, storming through to the minions, watching them cower in my presence, "Everyone start searching for cases that were solved by this man! Everyone get on it right now! I want to know everything, the cases he's solved, cases he hasn't solved, friends, family, history, weak points, _everything!_" I dragged out the last word, throwing the file down in the middle of the room.

"He is the number one target right now; I want a minute by minute history of his comings and goings for his entire life! I don't care if you think it'll upset me, I need to know _everything _and I need to know it by tonight! Get on with it!" I ordered, storming out of the room and back into my main, lavish office. Within the next few hours, I'd know everything I needed to know about our new friend, and be ready to toy with him and bring him his downfall. I couldn't let him continue solving my crimes, ruining my business, he had to be stopped. But I didn't mean I couldn't play with him a little bit first, discredit him, make his life _hell _for daring to mess with me and my business twice.

Within the next hour, my minions had found out that he lived at 363b Intercontinental Street, found his website 'The Science Of Deduction' and found that he had a companion who blogged about their crime solving adventures. They'd also given me access to CCTV cameras around their street, starting a live feed that I could look up whenever I wanted. Another team were looking at previous footage, finding everything they could from that angle too. A third team were being told that they may be sent into sleeper positions, depending on what our new toy was like. We may not have needed it, but chances were that our toy was going to need the sleeper cells, just in case.

I'd have liked to have been there to see him die, but I'd settle for CCTV footage if I had to, but this was getting ahead myself. I still hadn't even started my game properly yet. I was still on reconnaissance, and then the games could truly begin. But this was taking far too long; I flung myself out of my chair, storming out to my minions again.

"What is taking too long!? I want to know _everything _and I want to know it now! Get me everything on Tom Fletcher right now!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Pudd forever - haha! now that's all i'm going to see whenever i write minions! xD**

**guest - couldn't resist putting Tom in a long coat, ;) **

* * *

5 Harry POV

Two hours after Dougie's shout, we were inundated with information about the Consulting Detective known as Tom Fletcher. He came from a rich family, but was estranged from his parents, so they were no pressure point. His older sister worked in the government, but was only a minor position, and they generally _hated _each other so she was also of no use for blackmail. _But, _he had a flatmate, who was more than a friend it seemed. Every crime scene he attended he was accompanied with his friend, who was nowhere near as clever as Tom. If anything, he was pretty average, but was a doctor and ex-soldier. He'd been wounded in war and invalidated home, but still was a crack shot that may have rivalled my skills with a gun. Apparently he ran a blog where he documented all their cases together, and their general life. It was practically an open book to their lives, telling us so much, almost everything we possibly needed.

"Find out more about Danny Jones! He looks like a pressure point! And find out which policemen work with them, which ones can't stand them, which ones are open for bribes and blackmail for more information!" Dougie shouted across the room again, pouring over the files. "Oh this Danny Jones looks like a _good _pressure point. He looks oh so very good for our purposes. Tom cares a bit too much about him, the things I could do to break that man." Dougie rubbed his hands together in glee, apparently exceedingly happy with his find.

"Think we'll kill this one, or break him for information?" I asked, it had been a while since I'd had any fun with a gun or a knife, maybe this could have been an opportunity...

"No! Well. Maybe. If I get bored. But in the future he may need to be neutralised if he proves to be too much of a problem, too much of an attack dog. Can't have Tom protected by a good soldier pet can we? Only I get that pleasure." Dougie beckoned me over; I went willingly, falling into his embrace.

"Well, I am a good attack dog." I smirked, not minding being called an attack dog, or a pet for that matter. Dougie had had many before me, but I knew I was special compared to them. None of those pets had been a crack shot, had followed orders blindly after being broken in. I hadn't been broken in, hadn't needed it. I followed because I _wanted _to. Dougie wouldn't get rid of me that easily.

"Oh you are, perfect little attack dog. My favourite pet." Dougie ran a hand down my face, coming in for a kiss. "Darling deadly boy." He whispered, the praise making my heart sing.

"Darling deadly boy wants something to do too. Can I play with something for a while? I'm not good with all of this planning, and when the time comes, we're going to need my skill set." I pleaded, I was bored sitting here reading through files. I didn't have the concentration in reading things. Give me a stake out for six hours waiting for a target to come in, go for it, give me reading files, not a chance. Dougie was better at this stuff; I could gain any information I needed from him later on.

"Alright, go play on the shooting range. You'll get lots of practice with knives later on, when we _really _start confusing our new friends." Dougie laughed a positively evil laugh, sending me off to the shooting range with a smack to my backside.

I chuckled to myself, wandering down to the shooting range, watching all the different minions scatter around me as I passed. It was amusing to think that I was such a scary person to the people who worked here. Walking down the street I was like any other person, but here I had _power. _True power. I _loved _it. Knowing that I was chosen as Dougie's right hand man, his second in command, anyone messed with me, they messed with _him. _And _nobody _dared piss Dougie off, or he would explode and that person would be wishing they'd never been born. And generally, I was the one who did that, dished out the pain with knives and any other tool I could get my hands on. Dougie liked to watch sometimes, a maniac grin on his face as I worked on a person. It all lead to some _great _passion fuelled sex in the end too, which was always worth it.

At first, I hadn't been sure about this position in Dougie's crime ring, but as I thought about it now as I made it to the gun range, I _really _enjoyed being here. I got to shoot people, torture them, cause them all pain. And nobody could stop me, nobody knew it was happening outside of our little crime ring, this life was _perfect. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Pudd forever - hey no worries about that, i never take the writing properly seriously anyway, it's all about having fun. if Dougie is now in my head controlling a tonne of minions from the film, that's all good with me xD**

* * *

6 Dougie's POV

Within days, I had everything I could possibly want to know about Tom Fletcher and his blogger Danny Jones, and a fully operational plan to take them down, with a hell of a lot of fun in between. Oh we were going to have so much fun together, so much great fun. I wasn't going to be bored for _months. _

I had so much planned, and every single step was going to drive Tom _insane _trying to figure out my clues, figure out who I was, why I was doing this. Everything. He wasn't going to be able to function by the time I was done with him, and it was going to be so much _fun_.

"Everyone! Listen up! Keep tabs continuing on Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones! Camera footage, newspaper reports, blog posts, I want everything! Never stop watching! I want to know if they even _sneeze _funny!" I shouted across the room, everyone jumping to make sure I was kept happy, "And where's Harry?!" I continued, I hadn't seen him in a few hours; I wanted to see him right now. I always liked having a bit of celebratory sex after coming up with a great plan.

"Right here Boss. Sorry, was letting off a bit of steam in the gym." Harry came up, rubbing his damp hair with a towel, making it stick up in random tufts. Very, very cute tufts. As his clothes clung to his damp skin, fresh out the shower too. Yummy.

"Oh look at you, all damp and sexy. Come on sexy boy, we've got some celebrating to do!" I dragged him off, shoving him into my office and slamming the door, knowing that there was no minion on this entire facility who was brave enough to disturb us.

The next morning, I woke up in a mess tangle of limbs and sheets, Harry's arm lying over my chest. I took a moment to snuggle closer, enjoying the warm feeling for a few minutes before getting up, knowing we had a big day ahead. We had clues to lay, Consulting Detectives to interest and tease. But first, we needed a body. An interesting locked room murder, something that usually interested him and brought him out of hiding. Hmmm...

I pulled out my best dressing gown, pulling it on and wandering round to the desk, surveying all the minor cases I had to solve. 'Dear Dougie, will you fix it for me so I can...' blah, blah, blah. Same old stuff, same old problems. Bor-ing! But I needed one right now, one that could be minor, look innocent enough, but would draw out clever Consulting Detectives.

"Come back to bed Dougie, it's early." Harry sighed from behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulder and leaning his head on top of mine.

"No time, got to find the one case that can draw out our new friend and make him realise that we're around... Ah-ha! Found it!" I pulled out a file of a man we'd been keeping an eye on. Jefferson Hope, dying old man, divorced, two kids he still cared about. He had about six months to live, and hadn't earned much money as a cab driver, but was looking for _any _way to give something to his children after he passed on, to help with university and such.

"And how is this man going to bring Tom's attention to us?" Harry asked, leaning against the desk, arms folded across his bare chest, all delicious muscle and a few bruises from our late night activities.

"Because, well, this silly little man said he would do _anything _to get money to his children. So, I say we send him out on a clever little murder spree, one that doesn't look like a murder spree, but clearly is when you know what you're looking for. That'll draw Tom out and make him start looking for us." I smirked, nothing wrong with a bit of murder to grab people's attention, and generally, murder was what excited Tom the most.

"And how exactly will that draw his attention to us and are we paying this guy to murder people?" Harry asked, oh always needing to ask questions. I sometimes forgot he was an attack dog and not as clever as I was.

"Yes we're paying him, well... We may pay him. He won't know, he'll be dead and therefore won't complain. But we'll offer him money to kill people... And we'll tell him that if Tom Fletcher gets close to solving why he's doing it, well, he'll tell him that he's got a fan, called Dougie Poynter." I smirked, imagining it now. Oh the confusion would be exquisite!

"But that's going to lead him right to us! And how can we be sure that this guy won't back out of _killing _people? Most people aren't like us; they aren't cut out for murder Dougie!" Harry looked so confused; I sighed and rolled my eyes, wishing he could keep up with my mind.

"Because if you haven't noticed, there is _nothing _about me on the internet. I'm not on any social media or anything. This is a purely underground business. Tom will not find anything out about me that way, he'll have to search deeper and he still won't find anything. That's what's going to drive him insane, knowing that I'm a fan and I'm out there and yet he can't find me anywhere. And as for Mr Hope and actually killing, I don't mean with knives or guns, too obvious to start with... I need someone who's good with chemistry." I raced out of the room, head set on a plan, but first I needed someone with intimate knowledge on poisons and distilling them!


	8. Chapter 8

**Now this chapter may not make much sense if you haven't seen the show, but it's mostly a set up for the next few chapters where all will be made clear, I promise!**

* * *

7 Harry's POV

"Go and discuss our business with Hope, tell him about his part of the plan, get him to agree." Dougie ordered me, straightening his suit out.

"What payment am I saying we're giving him per kill?" I asked, just making sure I had the facts right.

"Twenty grand per kill. There's five kills to make, which makes one hundred grand in total. Show him these pill bottles, tell him what he needs to say to each victim, what he needs to say if Tom turns up and figures it out, how to lure him out. Tell him he'll get double if Tom goes with him. Also tell him that this is the poison, so he has to dry swallow the pills, or he's the one dying." Dougie handed me two identical pill bottles and another water bottle filled with clear water like liquid.

"Right okay, and I'm getting picked up in his cab?" I got a nod.

"Stay in the shadows, keep your hood up so he can't recognise you." Dougie pulled my hood up before sending me out to go find our target. I didn't usually get sent out on these, some lower minion did it, but this was important. More than important, Dougie wanted someone he could fully trust, but at the same time not expose himself. I was slightly less worried about being recognised in a line up, had been in enough of them over the years, plus had a disguise on, so I was safe.

I headed out to the middle of London, waiting until Jefferson Hope turned up with his cab, running in to catch him, sitting in the dark shadowy part of the cab.

"Right, where too?" He asked, sounded normal enough, not someone with a death sentence.

"Just drive, I'm here to talk to you about your little enquiry." I told him, he froze momentarily.

"Oh, oh okay. You're, you're h-him then?" Hope stuttered, I could almost see his pulse starting to race in fear.

"No, just a small part of his organisation. Now drive or this is going to look suspicious." I ordered, waiting for him to drive off.

After we'd been travelling for a few minutes, I started the explanation. "We are offering twenty thousand pounds in exchange for a service for us. There is the opportunity to earn up to one hundred thousand pounds, are you interested?" I asked, just like I'd been coached to.

"Holy sh*t, yes, yes I am. Erm... What would I have to do?" He asked, still looking scared.

"Simply, cheat death. We propose that you that you pick up people in your cab, just like you are now, and then you talk to them. Scare them into taking one of these pills, swallowed with this water. They'll die, and it'll look like a suicide. Each death will earn you twenty grand." I explained, putting the pill bottles and poison water on his dashboard.

"K-Kill people? Actually kill them?!" Hope sounded in a state of disbelief.

"Yes Mr Hope. Kill them. You said you'd do anything for the money for your children; this is what we propose for you. Don't like it?" I smirked, _loving _putting people in the awkward position like this.

"I'll, I'll do it! But, what if I get caught? What then?" Hope panicked a bit.

"Good, and you won't get caught by the regular police. On the other hand, you may be caught by man called Tom Fletcher, who lives at 363B Intercontinental Street, if this happens, here's your plan. We are monitoring him, and if he catches up to you, we'll save you from being caught. But if you do, we'll give you _double _your money." I watched his face, seeing if it would show signs of not wanting to do this.

"Okay, okay I'll do it. Just... Promise me my kids will get the money." Hope begged.

"Of course they will. We're not in the business of lying to clients Mr Hope." I grinned, finishing off the consultation before leaving the cab, calling Dougie to tell him that the game was on!


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you both for the comments, i'm glad you're liking it so much! :D**

* * *

8 Dougie's POV

Once I knew that Jefferson Hope was on board with our plans, I was filled with glee, excited to see how long it would take for Tom to get involved. Probably not at first, the police were entirely useless at solving actual crimes, hence why I'd gone so long without being caught. They'd see the first murder as a suicide, possibly the second too, but once it got to the third, they'd certainly see that things were not actually alright. Suicides were all well and good, but _serial, identical _suicides, that was suspicious, the type of suspicious that brought out Consulting Detectives.

I laughed to myself, getting excited to see how this played out, I hoped it drove Tom _mad, _made him _desperate _to find out who I was. If only I'd known about him before, had known he had been trying to solve my first murder all those years ago. I'd only been eight when I'd killed a boy, poisoning his shoe laces so he was paralysed in a swimming pool in the middle of a competition. The police ruled it a drowning, despite the fact that the boy had been a champion swimmer. I'd been getting away with this since the age of _eight. _Tom had apparently been eleven when he saw the news about this and had investigated, getting nowhere with the police. Who believed a child in a murder investigation anyway?

But now as an adult, Tom was being listened to by the police, had already solved a case I'd made, I was stopping him. If that meant he found out that things were murders and that I was behind it all, so be it. I'd never be caught, he couldn't prove I was behind anything either. Even if he did, I'd get off, bribing jurors was surprisingly easy once you got some decent threats in. 'Vote me not guilty or I'll kill your children' 'I'll tell your superiors that you're sleeping with your boss' Things like that _really _went a long way. With that, I'd get off any charge whatsoever, so even if I did somehow get caught, it wouldn't be for long.

"How long are we going to be waiting for now Dougie?" Harry sighed, leaning against my desk with his arms crossed.

"Patience Harry, only a little while. Just until Tom picks up the scent. Hope is going out for his first kill tonight; it should only take another two weeks at most before the scent is picked up." I sighed, used to his impatience in _everything. _Harry did like to be active, always doing something, ready for a fight, _in _a fight, torturing, killing, _anything. _Waiting around was not his strong point.

"That's ages away, is there anything else to do in the mean time?" Harry whined slightly. For someone was an assassin and had nerves of steel, he couldn't half be a complainer at times.

"You're lucky I like you, or you're constant whining about being bored would have had me kill you long ago." I commented, I'd killed for a lot less before in the past.

"You need me too much." Harry smirked.

"Sure about that, I have many people skilled in the art of killing and torturing information out of others. Why'd I need you too?" I raised an eyebrow, playing it cool.

"Because I'm _better _than them and you know it. Now can we go and _entertain _ourselves for a bit please?" Harry tugged on my hand like that would get me to move.

I sighed and rolled my eyes dramatically, slowly standing up. "Fine if I must. Go and get the handcuffs out, I've got to finish some things up here first." I pulled him in for a kiss, smiling into it when he let out a soft whimper of arousal.


	10. Chapter 10

**QUICK NOTICE: I'm starting uni tomorrow (eeeek) so the updates may not be as regular as they are now, because i'm busy with studying/travelling to university and doing coursework etc, so i apologise in advance for any problems that that causes! i currently don't have a clue about any timetables or anything for my course, so it may turn okay, but i don't know yet, so i'll let you guys know as soon as i know! sorry for the inconvenience of it all!**

**guest - oh my god you have no idea! Tom and Benedict are my two favourite people in the world, putting them together could make the most perfect person ever (and kill me in the process) xD**

**Pudd forever - we shall see! ;)**

* * *

9 Harry's POV

Not two days later, we had confirmation of Hope's first kill, we hadn't given him a timeline or specific victims, but he'd picked a good one. A women in her mid thirties, heavy drinker, wouldn't be missed much. And the video of the act was _brilliant, _kept Dougie amused for literal hours. The victim was hysterical as she took the pills, swallowing the water and dying as ungracefully as possible in the middle of a sports centre, somewhere she wouldn't have normally been found.

The police looked into it briefly, ruling it a suicide pretty quickly, despite the slightly mysterious elements to the death. But that was the point for this one, a trial run, making sure that the police would turn up to investigate. Not very well might I add, but they tried, and they just needed to try until they realised that they were out of their depth before calling Tom in. Two more deaths and he'd be called in, then the games would begin.

"Yes Mr Hope, you did very well with that first murder. The police are ruling it a suicide, as we planned. Don't worry about it; just continue what you're doing." Dougie reassured, putting his feet up on the table, inspecting his nails, "Yes the money is being wired into an account as we speak. It's all in your name and looking perfectly legal. You won't get caught for this, just continue on as normal and everything will be okay." He continued, rolling his eyes at me playfully. I giggled to myself, watching him finish up the conversation and bounce up from the desk.

"All sorted?" I asked, leaning back against the wall.

"Yep, I've had to do this far too many times with clients. Ordinary people are _adorable _with all their worries and not trusting me to keep them out of trouble with the law." Dougie smiled, straightening his designer suit.

"Typical of clients then. Though isn't this one supposed to get caught?" I was sure we were supposed to be letting this one get caught.

"By Tom Fletcher, not the police. Then, well, if he ends up getting arrested, we'll kill him before he talks to anybody else. The police shouldn't get involved in this; we only want Tom to get involved." Dougie explained, my ears pricking up.

"Kill him? You mean I may finally get some sniper action?" I rubbed my hands together; it had been a while since I'd been let out for some sniper action. It had all been close range shootings or hand to hand combat. I wanted incognito sniper action!

"We'll see about that, but it looks likely. Oh speaking of which, I have a little assignment for you." Dougie grinned; I pushed myself off the wall in interest.

"Oh really? Assassination, blackmail or torture?" I hoped for assassination, again, sniper missions were few and far between. Outsourcing was our general way for doing these things, but sometimes I got to go out and shoot someone dead.

"My favourite, torture. Of another troublesome client, he made a mistake with a drug shipment that lost us a lot of money. He needs to be taught a lesson." Dougie answered with a positively evil smirk.

"Oh, will you be watching?" I asked, "You know I like it when you watch me work." It was one of my favourite things, knowing I was being watched while Dougie enjoyed every single second of my work.

"Of course I will be. Now come with me, the boys have already picked him up and are getting him ready in one of the cells." Dougie dragged me to the door, the two of us running out to the car, ready for a _damn _good time!

I couldn't wait to get my hands on this man, it had been far too long since I'd had any _real _flesh to work with, have anyone to work on like this. It had been even longer since I'd been working with Dougie watching me. He'd always loved to watch me, taking pleasure in me inflicting pain on others. The sounds he made were exquisite, I'd never heard someone take so much pleasure in situations such as that, and after I was done he'd enjoy inflicting all that pent up pleasure onto me. I bore the scars of his sadism over my chest, wore them like armour. I couldn't wait for more bite marks, more sounds of pleasure, more skin on skin action between us.

"Go and get them big boy, make me proud." Dougie encouraged, grabbing my face for a kiss before pushing me into the cell, ready to teach this guy a lesson.


	11. Chapter 11

**QUICK NOTICE ABOUT UPDATE TIMES: My timetable isn't as bad/hectic as first thought it turns out! I'm only in for three days a week, two of which is only morning sessions, so I'll be able to come home and update like normal! So if I'm very lucky, coursework withstanding, I should be able to update on a three day basis as I have been with this fic anyway! That may change depending on work load and how much time I get to write fics instead of coursework, but I should still have at least one day a week where I can write/update, so it's not as bad as first thought! wooo!**

* * *

10 Dougie's POV

"Please! Stop!" Our captive cried out as Harry dragged a knife down his back.

"Why should we? You knew what would happen if you screwed up, and you screwed up royally. This is your punishment." I inspected my nails nonchalantly, pretending I wasn't _loving _every second of this. Harry hadn't worked on someone like this in a while, I missed seeing him work. Blood was splattered over his face and shirt, his muscles rippled as he moved; knife gripped in his hand like it was a part of his body. Never had he been more beautiful in my mind.

"I-I didn't mean to! I tried! T-Things went wrong, it wasn't me!" The man cried out again as Harry made another cut.

"But you were the one in charge; therefore you should have fixed it!" I growled, the man's stupidity annoying me. I hated stupid people who couldn't admit to their mistakes.

"I-I couldn't!" He cried again, wobbling on his feet from blood loss.

"Don't be obtuse, it's a terrible trait." I rolled my eyes, refusing to shout for the minute. I would start if he didn't start giving me answers that I liked, but for now I was keeping cool, mainly because Harry looked so damn delectable like that.

"I honestly didn't know! I didn't know until it was too late to fix it!" He shouted again, I sighed.

"WELL THEN NEXT TIME PAY ATTENTION!" I shouted back, standing up from my chair to glare at this moron, "Harry, I'm bored. I don't want to see this _idiot _anymore, dispose of him." I slumped back into the chair, watching Harry drag the knife across the moron's throat, blood spraying everywhere.

"Incompetent idiot. But now I'm going to have to find someone new to look over the drugs trade." I groaned, rubbing a hand down my face.

"Oh just move up the most competent underling. For now come on, we're covered in blood, we need a shower." Harry tugged on my hand, smirk still on his face.

"The stupidity has put me off. Go entertain yourself." I shooed him away before he got blood on my designer suit.

"Oh come on we've dealt with stupider before, you've always been up for a round or two." Harry tugged again, "You love me." He continued.

"I don't love you; I love competent minions, rock music and murder. I tolerate you because you are competent and very good at murder and torture... And sex. Oh f*ck it, just don't get blood on my suit." I gave in, shoving him out of the room and to the nearest shower, because the only thing better than a bloody Harry was a wet one.

Two hours later, we were both lying in bed. I was organising another minion taking over where the last one left off while Harry continued to sleep. I had to admit, he was rather delicious, even when he was asleep. Though, he did look pretty cute, little serial killer all worn out, so innocent, so trusting in his sleep... I could do anything to him and he'd be totally unprepared. Well, mainly unprepared, there was a knife in his hand, hidden under the pillow. Another reason why he was such a good asset and without doubt my favourite, he was always prepared, even in his sleep.

He was a dangerous man, but looking at him like this, it was hard to believe. He was almost _cute _right now, hard to believe he was torturing and killing a man a few hours ago. I reached out and I touched his face, wanting to feel that cuteness. A strong hand grabbed at my wrist before I made my contact, and within seconds Harry was on top of me, pinning me to the bed.

"Oh it's you. Thought it was an attack." He relaxed after a few seconds, crawling off me.

"No, just me. You're like a jungle cat you know, looks innocent enough in your sleep but deadly if provoked." I commented, "You know, I may just start calling you Tiger." I smiled, watching his eyes flash at the nickname.

"Hmm, I like it. Also works as a code name during missions." Harry grinned, pulling me down for a kiss, which I gladly reciprocated. I may have not loved him, but I had to admit I was rather fond of the man. My darling deadly boy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Pudd forever - i just imagine him using puppy eyes whenever he's in trouble and cuting his way out of trouble xD**

**guest - thank you! :D**

* * *

11 Harry's POV

Within the week, two more bodies were found, victims of Jefferson Hope. Now the police were getting worried, the public were starting to question what was going on. How could suicides be linked? Were people safe? What were the police doing to stop this from happening? Obviously, the police had absolutely no clue on how to answer that, and so in came Tom Fletcher to help solve the case. Dougie was ecstatic at the news of the new player in the game, his main opponent entering the equation.

"Oh Harry this is the best! His interest has been caught, it's only a matter of time before Tom discovers our existence and then we can _really _start playing!" Dougie clapped his hands together, near bouncing on the spot like an overly excited three year old.

"This is still taking a long time to work itself out Boss." I whined a little.

"I know, but it'll soon quicken up and then we'll be immersed in the game!" Dougie grinned, going into ramblings about how this was going to be so much fun. I didn't doubt that it would be, but I wasn't sure why we were bothering when we could just shoot the nuisance and be done with it.

I dared to ask, making Dougie burst out laughing... He sometimes did worry me when he laughed like that.

"Oh Harry you really are _so_ ordinary! I told you, I'm bored; I need something to play with. And you, Tiger, while you are a fun pet and everything, you are dreadfully dull in the brain with anything other than murder and torture. But Tom, _Tom, _oh he has a similar IQ to me, he thinks in a similar way. I want to play with that first, have a bit of fun with him before we inevitably shoot him dead. That's what we're doing, we're playing with him, drawing him like a moth to a flame before _boom,_" Dougie's eyes widened as he made the classic 'explosion' hand gesture, "Him and his little friend will be eradicated, but I just want to play with him for a little bit. Life is so dreadfully boring when you're surrounded by simple minded people, yet this Tom is different. And I want to destroy him, mentally and possibly physically too. To do that, we need to have some fun, draw him out, send him round the bend with plots and crimes he can't solve." Dougie explained, I didn't mind the fact that he'd basically insulted me for the entirety of that, I was used to it. But I still wasn't sure why we were going to this much trouble.

"We know where he lives and his routines, why don't we just kidnap him and torture him until he breaks that way? Possibly make him one our minions?" I questioned, slightly revelling in the fact that I was the only person in the world who got to question our mighty leader like this. Anybody else tried question Dougie's motives got roughed up by either me or another torturer. I on the other hand got away with it because I was special to Dougie. Mostly because I was better than the rest of the trained soldiers around here and because I was very good in bed. Oh well, I was still his Tiger, his darling deadly boy, who cared why?

"Because that is _so _pedestrian! I was excitement, chases around London, _explosions, _all of it! This is how we do it! We dangle a new mystery in front of Tom Fletcher, watch him take the bait and then torture him with clues and time limits and everything until he thinks he can defeat us, and then we'll kill him. Plain and simple." Dougie gave me his evil grin again.

"What if he kills you first? Thought of that?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"That had occurred to me, yes. If he does, well then you get to murder him in any way you wish. Currently though, I'm betting he won't kill me. I'm too interesting. He hasn't come across anybody as clever as him, apart from his sister, who he hates. So he'll want to pick me apart, as much as I want to pick him apart. He won't kill the only interesting person around." Dougie answered, looking very smug.

"Right, but why don't we just convert him to our side? We could do with an ally as clever as you surely?" I kept my eyebrow raised in question.

"Oh he'll never join us. He's far too loyal to his pet and that detective inspector for that. And if we broke him like we do with everyone else, well then he wouldn't be as fun because he'd be basically as mindless as everyone else. If he wasn't he'd probably have the mental capacity to escape." Dougie shrugged it off.

"Right... What are we doing with his pet? That... Danny Jones was his name, wasn't it?" I liked knowing a plan inside out, I didn't like variables. Especially ex-soldiers who were crack shots.

"He's loyal to a fault, clearly in love with Tom; therefore we're going to have to kill him too. Preferably before we kill Tom, to see the shock on his face at the loss of his live in pet. People do get oddly sentimental over these things." Dougie rolled his eyes, like he didn't have me as his 'live in pet' and wasn't sentimental over me. I felt a stab of jealousy and annoyance at the dig I wasn't sure if Dougie meant, but battled that down. I knew my place was at Dougie's side, always had. His speech wasn't anything to be worried about; I knew I was indispensible to him, no matter what he said.


	13. Chapter 13

**Pudd forever - i know i couldn't resist those eyes!**

* * *

12 Dougie's POV

For three days, I watched over everything interesting happening in 363B Intercontinental Street, watching Tom slowly work out what was going on. He paced the flat obsessively, never sleeping, never eating, just worked out as much as he could as quickly as he could. It didn't take him long to figure out that it was a cab driver causing these suicides, but he didn't know _why. _Or more importantly, _who. _

"Clever boy, let's see how long it takes you to figure out who's doing this." I spoke to the screen, taking a minute to observe what my enemy looked like.

Tom was of average height, but he looked taller through the cameras. He was rather skinny, clearly from not eating on cases as he apparently did, blonde hair styled in messy tufts, which was starting to look unkempt due to him running his hands through it repeatedly. Currently he was also in a dark, expensive suit, which seemed to be his main outfit for going out/being on cases. The only parts missing were his long Belstaff coat, blue scarf and leather gloves. They only came out when he left the flat, but the pictures I'd seen of him in that made me far too excited to see him in them. He looked _delicious _in those clothes... Maybe I could get Harry in a trench coat like that...

"Come on Danny! We need to get to Scotland Yard!" Tom shouted, grabbing that divine coat and scarf and running out of the door in a whirlwind of energy, Danny rushing to keep up.

Danny, compared to Tom, was less... _composed _you could say. He didn't bother with the expensive clothes or perfectly styled hair. It was clear that he hadn't had as much privilege as Tom in terms of money. He kept to his means in simple shirts and jeans, leaving his hair to tumble down in a mass of brown curls. In some ways, they were complete opposites, but were rather suited for each other. The almost balletic grace of Tom compared to Danny's clumsiness, their differences in intellect, but yet they worked. It was a marvel to behold.

"They figure it out yet?" Harry asked, nodding his head towards the monitors.

"Getting there. Tom's just realised that Hope has slipped up and kept the latest victim's phone and that they can track where he's going with it. Give it another about four hours and we'll be getting our first showdown and they'll be learning of our existence." I rubbed my hands together, preparing video surveillance for Scotland Yard. Detective Inspector Matthew Fletcher's office to be exact. He was of no relation to Tom despite the shared last name, but he was like a father to the Consulting Detective, and possibly the only person in the police force who listened to Tom properly. Though, he didn't respect him much, knew that he was a 'great man' but not a 'good one' most probably because Tom was a bit of a d*ck to others due to his intellect. From what I could tell, he was a less eccentric version of me.

"If they're that close to figuring it out, should I set up and get ready to stop Hope being arrested?" Harry asked, finally looking excited at our game.

"Go now, set yourself up and make sure you've got a clear shot." I nodded, watching him run out of the room while I picked up the phone, calling Jefferson Hope.

"Don't ask why but when I send you a text, get yourself to 363B Intercontinental Street, and ask for Tom Fletcher. Tell him that if he calls the police, you'll never tell him what you said to your victims, if he wants to know he must come with you. Take him to the Silvia Young Theatre School, the dance studio to be exact, try to get him to take your pills like we planned." I instructed, not even bothering to introduce myself, I never did.

"Tom Fletcher? The detective?" Hope sounded scared.

"Yes, that Tom Fletcher. Don't worry, we'll make sure you won't get arrested, has anything we've told you before gone wrong?" I technically wasn't lying; we were ensuring he wasn't getting arrested, once he'd done his job he was getting shot through the head. Sure he would die, but he wasn't getting arrested.

"O-Okay. So I pick him up, talk to him, make him take the pill, and then what?" Hope asked, oh did I have to spell _everything _out for people?

"Well then you tell him that he's got a fan, an admirer from his website. Tease him a little over it, and just when he gets frustrated, give him the name Dougie Poynter." I told him, rubbing my temples at the idiot needing to be told this much.


	14. Chapter 14

**Pudd forever - thank you! i'm glad you think so! :D and oh god yes, i couldn't resist that man, no matter what face he's pulling!**

* * *

13 Harry's POV

Finally! Some action was going to happen! I was actually _finally _going to this stake out, keeping myself as an insurance policy for us, so only Tom heard Dougie's name. Apparently our 'experts' thought that Tom wouldn't tell the police, not even DI Fletcher (Fletch for short) and would investigate by himself. He seemed the type to do that actually, he didn't strike me as much of a team player who shared information unless necessary.

So, I grabbed my long range sniper gun, setting it up so it was pointing to the designated room for Hope and Tom Fletcher's meeting. Now, all I had to do was wait, and this time, the waiting wasn't too bad. There was a kill on the way! Anticipation grew inside me at the thought, I _loved _assassinations, hiding away on roof tops, readying the shot, catching people by surprise and disappearing into the night. It was almost the perfect crime. The only thing that endangered it was witnesses, but there was no CCTV up here, or anything of a similar nature, so I was pretty sure I was safe for now. I'd staked this place out as well, so I was almost 100% certain this was going to be a perfect crime.

"Hey Doug, how long before the target gets here?" I asked into my earpiece after an hour of not seeing any sign of _anybody. _This place was deserted.

"Don't call me Doug, and about another hour, target is making his way to Intercontinental Street when Tom gets there, which he currently is not." Dougie practically hissed the first part.

"Fine, and why can't I call you Doug? You call me Tiger!" I smirked, knowing it would wind him up a little.

"Because I said so. I go by Dougie, not Doug. It doesn't sound intimidating enough." Dougie turned a bit blasé by the end of the sentence, I could imagine him shrugging as he said it.

"Dougie Poynter isn't a scary name to start with. If anything it sounds like you should be a highly tattooed teenager in a band." I told him, relaxing a little as I knew I wasn't going to be needed for a while longer, and just wanting to enjoy this conversation with my lover(?)

"I can still change my mind about tolerating you and instead turn you into a new pair of shoes." Dougie warned, playful danger in his tone.

"Oh come on, I'm your _Tiger, _you wouldn't kill me, who else would give you great sex? And brilliant, flawless tortures and murders?" I smirked to myself again.

"I guess you're right, though don't hold that too close, I can and will change my mind about you if you push it too far." Dougie again warned.

"Meh, I like taking risks, it's half the reason as to why I'm here." I shrugged, because it was true. I was a bit of a thrill seeker, and naturally sought out danger. Dougie gave me danger constantly, keeping me on my toes for a lot of the time. The other half, well, the perks of the job weren't bad. Great regular sex, a huge sprawling mansion to live in, good pay too. I wasn't sure what else I could ask for really.

"Good, now shut up talking to me. Get on with the job; you'll be needed in an hour at most." Dougie had me back into action again, resolute and ready to go the second I was needed.

And true to Dougie's word, fifty-seven minutes later, a taxi cab pulled up. Jefferson Hope got out first, opening the door to who I presumed was Tom Fletcher, and they seemed to be arguing about getting out of the car. But Hope pulled out a gun and that got Tom moving, though still at an almost annoyingly confident pace. The gun pointed at his back didn't seem to bother him at all, like this happened all the time, probably did. The man was a Consulting Detective after all, probably dealt with a lot of bad people, and there was that flat mate of his, who was also an ex-soldier who was a crack shot too. Guns were probably a daily thing for them then.

Speaking of the flat mate, he wasn't here... where the hell was he then? Did he not come on cases, or had he been left behind? Hmm, interesting.

Hope and Tom soon appeared in our planned meeting room, the talks starting. I flicked a switch on my radio, allowing me to hear the conversation going on inside. I had the go ahead to shoot to kill, I didn't need to listen to Dougie's orders anymore, I doubted they'd change from now on.

"So that's how you got your victims to take the pills, pointed the gun at them. Gave them the option, certain death by gun, or 50/50 chance with the pills, clever." Tom was saying, gun still pointed at his head.

"And you have the same option now. Choose a pill and take it, or get shot." Hope did look mildly intimidating saying that. Not as intimidating as Dougie, but still pretty intimidating. Not bad for someone who was actually scared stiff of all of this.

"I think I'll take the gun thanks." Tom answered. _What? _That wasn't an option!

"But that's a bit cowardly isn't it? Taking the easy option? Surely you want to know which pill is the good one and the bad one?" Hope didn't stumble on this, _good man, keep it going. _

"I'm mildly curious, but really I'd rather take the gun. Much quicker." Tom smirked, _f*ck he knew that gun was fake. _

"Have it your way then." Hope pulled the trigger, a flame coming from the opening of the fake gun.

"Knew it was fake. Now this has been lovely but I must be off. You've now bored me and there's nothing to stop me from walking out of here." Tom stood up; Hope had a moment of panic.

"If you leave now, you'll never know which pill is which... And you'll never know why I did this." Hope clawed to get him back; he paused for a second, spinning round, the long coat swirling dramatically.

"Obvious really as to why you're doing it. You're a dead man walking, brain tumour I'm guessing. You want to outlive people and killing seemed like a good idea, a thrill and the knowledge of being alive longer than others." Tom answered, still smiling like he knew everything.

"Correct, but that's not all I get out of this. I'm getting paid." Hope made the curiosity light back up in Tom's eyes.

"Paid, by who?" Tom asked, stepping back into the room. _That's it Hope, draw him in, as per the plan. _

"A benefactor. Someone who'll pay me to get your attention, so there's money for my kids after I'm gone." Hope answered, being coy about it, dragging it all out.

"Get my attention? Who wants my attention?" Tom leant forward, _very _interested now, I could see that through my eye line on the gun.

"You have a fan, from that website your blogger uses to write up all your cases. He wants to know a bit more about you, wants to start playing a game with you." Hope looked downright evil as he said it, knowing he had Tom on tender hooks.

"There's two types of fan, one; catch me before I kill again, and the bedroom is that way. Which one is yours?" Tom stepped forward some more, narrowing his eyes like he could deduce it.

"Wouldn't know. All I know is that he's a fan, and he wants to start playing games." Hope smirked, seconds from an evil laugh, when an almighty _bang _rang through the air.

Hope fell to the floor, bleeding out from the heart as he did so; no way he was going to live through that. How the hell did that?!

I glanced around, noticing that there was someone in the adjacent building to the dance studio. _Curly brown hair, gun in hand, not looking at all worried that he'd just shot someone... Danny Jones, the flat mate! _He'd shot Hope?! What the hell?! That was _my _job!

"The name of my fan! Tell me right now!" Tom was shouting in my ear, I turned back to the studio. His foot was pressing on the bullet wound, causing no doubt a lot of pain. _I had to get out of here, but I had to make sure the plan went along. But I needed to leave! Sh*t! _

"The name! Now!" Tom shouted again.

"Dougie Poynter!" Hope cried out, before he fell limp. _Mission complete... Now how the hell was I getting out of here unseen?!_


	15. Chapter 15

**Pudd forever - looks like he does!**

**imnemocomeandfindme - i'm not sure if you got my reply to your first comment, so can i just say thank you for it, you made my week with your enthusiasm! and we'll possibly see Dougie being a bit playful and teasing, i'm working on it as we speak! **

* * *

14 Dougie's POV

Oh that was not something I was expecting, to see that the pet did the killing, not Harry! Tom's little pet Danny did the dirty work when he thought he was in trouble, hmm, interesting. Showed me a bit more of their relationship, clearly Danny cared for Tom, or at least felt loyal enough to him to kill someone who threatened him. Hm... I wondered if that meant that Danny didn't follow orders from Tom, and worked autonomously to what he thought best. Interesting thoughts there...

"Sh*t!" Harry swore, the sound of rustling sounding through my phone. I glanced at his monitor, watching him dash off the roof, onto the ledge and over the fence after packing up his gun, walking down the street like he hadn't just been on an assassination mission. I liked that about him, completely cool after a mission, could blend in anywhere, no matter what the outcome had been.

"Sending a car to pick you up now." I told him, sending a text off to another minion to pick him up in a cab, before turning back to Tom and Danny.

Danny had run into Tom's building, meeting him in the studio, the two of them discussing what just happened.

"Putting it simply, he was doing this for money, there's someone out there who wanted my attention, a fan of some sort." Tom explained, looking absently down at the body.

"A fan? What do you mean a fan? And who?" Danny asked, definitely simple human mind that one. If anything, slightly below average intelligence.

"A fan of me, whose read your blog about us apparently. Also a mix of the two types of fan." Tom looked thoughtful again, not really seeing the dead body of Jefferson Hope on the floor, more seeing through it.

"So someone who wants to sleep with you, but isn't afraid to kill for your attention?" Danny summarised, okay, maybe not below average intelligence. I didn't see Tom as the type of person to put up with someone _that _stupid compared to him.

"Basically yes." Tom nodded, looking up at his companion.

"Right, okay. Any clues on who it is?" Danny asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Someone named Dougie Poynter." Tom answered, still looking perplexed.

"Have we met him before?" Danny seemed to be wracking his brain now.

"Nope, haven't got the slightest clue on who he is. Which is exciting, a new mystery to unravel Danny, someone who may prove to be interesting!" Tom nearly jumped with glee. _Gotcha. _

"Oh great, now I'm going to have to put up with you all excited." Danny teased, _oh, were they close enough to tease? _

"Oh don't pretend you don't love it when I get excited over a mystery!" Tom smirked, sliding closer.

"Hmm, that may be true. It beats you being bored, that's for certain." Danny wrapped his arms around the man, pulling him in for a kiss. _Lovers?! They were lovers?! Why did nobody tell me that?! _

The police sirens broke the couple apart, and things got boring after that, so I stormed out of my office and into the pit where the minions were.

"Why did nobody tell me Fletcher and Jones were a couple!? I was told that they were flat mates! Did nobody think to check their relationship status?!" I shouted in pure anger across the room, making everybody freeze in terror.

"W-We didn't know Sir. Our i-information told us that they just shared a flat a-and went on cases together." One brave minion spoke up, looking terrified.

"Well then you didn't do your jobs properly then did you?! Because they're LOVERS, and that changes e-very-thing." I elongated the word, emphasising the importance of this.

"S-Sorry Sir. I-it won't happen again." The minion whispered, at least having the decency to look sheepish and scared.

"It better not! One more mistake like that and you'll wish you were never born! Now back to work the lot of you! Get me information on _why _we didn't know their relationship status! Get on with it!" I sent them all into a flurry of movement, going back into my office and slumping into my seat, rubbing my temples. Why were minions not clever enough to figure out the relationship status of two men? _Why? _


	16. Chapter 16

**Pudd forever - he doesn't take misinformation well ;) and thanks! :D**

* * *

15 Harry's POV

Eventually, all the correct information came in, after we sent out agents to stake out Intercontinental Street, watching the comings and goings of the Consulting Detective and his blogger. It looked like blogger Danny had a job, but it wasn't an average 9-5 arrangement, more like he was pulled in whenever he was needed, doing random hours here and there. Mostly he stayed at the flat with Tom, doing most of the cleaning and cooking, generally looking after the chronically lazy detective. Who mostly spent his days doing experiments that left unsightly messes everywhere or lazed around on the sofa in his pyjamas. He had no 'real' job and didn't leave the house unless a case came up, or he was going out to dinner with Danny. Other than that, he stayed where he was.

That certainly made it easy to kidnap him if the needs arose, or shoot him through the head; it was just sitting there, _begging _to be shot at! I almost felt trigger happy at looking at the surveillance pictures, imagining myself putting a bullet through his brain.

"Stop thinking about killing him Tiger, there's no fun in a simple assassination." Dougie rolled his eyes, sounding incredibly bored as he looked through more pictures and accounts.

"Oh I don't know about that, assassinations can be quite fun, and I never got my last one." I sidled up to him, sitting on the corner of the desk.

"No point in wasting such an interesting mind on a bullet so soon, you'll get your shot, but not right now." Dougie looked up at me then, a smirk on his face.

"I look that look, what are you planning?" That look always bore trouble, though not generally for me... Unless Dougie was in the mood to have some fun in the bedroom.

"I need you to go and intimidate someone for me." Dougie made my ears prick up.

"Oh, who, when and how?" I tuned into this conversation properly.

"He's an art dealer; the silly man went and took one of the imports we brought in a few months ago without paying. He owes us over half a million, and that's without interest for taking so long in paying. I need you to go and sort him out, show him that I'm not to be crossed and not paying causes trouble, and a lot of it." Dougie smiled, standing in front of me and pulling me jacket into place as he did so, like he was straightening me out to look presentable.

"Ah, and how am I going to do this exactly? And when?" I took his hands away from my hoodie, holding them in my own instead. I always marvelled at how small his hands were compared to my own, and yet they were so dangerous. With those hands, he could type a simple text or email and order some of the most powerful people in the world dead. Of course, he was one of the most powerful men around, possibly the most powerful man in the entire criminal underworld, but he'd never been caught, and nobody could _touch _him. Barely anybody knew what he looked like, the minions didn't count, they knew that we'd find out the _second _they thought about telling the police and they'd be sorry. They were kept in line that way, and everybody else never saw Dougie's face, only ever heard his voice. Even then they were usually too fearful to concentrate on it. He truly was the perfect criminal.

"Tonight, after his studio closes, he'll be there cataloguing until 9pm. Get in at eight, teach him a lesson, but don't kill him, make sure he knows he needs to pay and leave." Dougie's vague instructions were nothing new, he trusted me to know how to deal with problems like this without implicitly ordering anything.

"Want me to bring anything back, or want any methods used?" I did sometimes like bringing back Dougie some gifts from the mission, and this guy was an art dealer, he might have had something that Dougie wanted in his office.

"Some of his teeth would be good, possibly a nail or two. Paintings would be too difficult to extract without drawing suspicion so we'll give that a miss this time around. Now go and make Daddy proud, think you can do that?" He put on a playful pout, batting his eyelashes like that would convince me to go on this mission, like I wasn't going already.

"Of course I can. I'll make you so proud." I promised, earning a deep kiss.

"Good boy. Now go and sort it out, I've got more work to do on our little friend and his pet." Dougie pulled away and flopped into his chair, spinning to look at a bank of monitors, showing live feeds of Intercontinental Street. I glanced briefly, watching Tom play guitar while Danny ate dinner, a quiet chatter going over the top of the music.

"You're spending a lot of time on those two; almost say you were aspiring to have a quiet relationship like that." I teased, getting a deadly glare in turn.

"Say that one more time and you'll be chucked into the Thames River tied to an anvil." Dougie shot at me, putting his feet up on the desk.

"Don't think so, you'd miss me." I crossed my arms, knowing I had several hours before I needed to leave, so I had time to tease.

"Like I'd miss shouting at minions constantly. Now shoo, go sort out the art dealer, I want to see you roughed up from a fight when I get in. You know I like it when you've been roughed up a bit, blood still on your hands." Dougie gave me a flirtatious smile.

"Oh tough bargain, alright I'll sort out the art dealer. When are you going to be home?" I smirked.

"As soon as you're done, now get moving. I want first touching with any wounds, if there aren't any; I'm making some with some knives. I feel like seeing your blood run today." Dougie yanked me down for a kiss, "Now move out Tiger, and make me proud and so ready for it I'll practically _beg _for it." He growled, squeezing tight around my arms.

"Oh is that a promise?" I raised an eyebrow, not moving a centimetre from him.

"Find out when you get home." Dougie pushed me away with another smirk, so I left, ready to make him oh so very proud, and get a _very _nice reward later on for my efforts.


	17. Chapter 17

**Pudd forever - we'd be in trouble if they were! and yes, i LOVE Air Guitar, i think it's my new anthem xD what do you think of it?**

* * *

16 Dougie's POV

I fell on top of Harry, heaving in breath as I did, hearing and feeling start to laugh loudly.

"That, that was mind blowing." He giggled out, carding his hands through my hair.

"It was." I agreed, resting on his chest to hear his heart beat against my ear. It was sickeningly sentimental, but I couldn't help it at this moment, I had to admit, I did enjoy Harry's company.

"I should come home like this more often." Harry smirked down at me; he was sporting a bruised jaw and had a shallow cut slashing across his cheek. He'd come in looking worse, with his clothes ruffled out of shape, several tears through them, hair sticking up every which way, blood smattered over his knuckles, a few blobs on his face. In a nut shell, he had looked absolutely delicious; begging to be taken, get his wild look tamed. Well, I certainly took him, wasn't sure about taming the animal inside him.

"You should. I could probably help along those lines, rough you up a bit myself. But it wouldn't be the same." I contemplated, tracing out old battle scars over his chest.

"No, it would elicit something rather different." Harry agreed, resting his head on his arm, staring at the ceiling in thought.

"Same outcome though." I replied, "Violence gets me going, seeing you the victim of violence especially."

"All types of violence get to you Dougie. Just throwing people off bridges gets you all excited, don't you remember Paris?" Harry turned us over, pressing kisses across my shoulder.

"Of course I remember Paris. You were rather scary doing all that threatening as you held that drug addict over the river." I smiled, leaning into his touches.

"I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his skull." Harry giggled, nuzzling in closer, hooking a leg around mine.

"Now _that _would have been interesting... I wonder if you could knock someone's eyes out of their skull by hitting the back of their head with a large blunt object." I wondered.

"Probably not without killing them in the process. Rubbish torture technique that, they'd be dead before anything useful was said." Harry answered, hand sliding down to wrap around my waist.

"That is true. Better use the ice cream scoop instead. It's easier and has been proven to work." I linked our hands together.

"Probably best. Though if you want to ever test out the knocking out method, I'll be happy to provide the blow." Harry offered, a smirking pressed into my shoulder.

"Oh wouldn't you like to provide a blow." I turned over, pulling him towards me for a deep kiss, revelling in this. I may have said that I could have easily replaced Harry and didn't love him; I couldn't deny that he was good to have around. I did very much enjoy his company, I could talk to him about torture methods and things like that after having _amazing _sex, something I hadn't shared with anybody else my whole life. He may have had the brain of any other normal man in the world, but at least his was tuned more into murder and destruction, not bothering with the normal trivial twaddle most humans filled their heads with.

My musings were broken yet again by my phone ringing out; I groaned and pulled away from the enjoyable kiss, leaning over my lover to grab my phone.

"What? I'm busy." I growled, this better have been good or I was going to _kill _whoever was disturbing me.

"Sir, I-I just needed to say that we-we got paid for the painting, a-and that the new Chinese vases are in." The voice whimpered on the other end of the line.

"Is that it? You honestly phoned me to tell me that?!" I hissed, was that _it? _I was thinking that something _interesting _was happening, like Tom taking on another case, doing something interesting with his time instead of sitting on that ratty sofa of his. But I was being told about money and more vases, something that could have waited until morning?!

"Y-Yes Sir. You s-said to call the minute both were received." The voice had a point.

"I said to contact me, it did not necessarily mean _phone _you blithering idiot! You could have texted instead! Next time text me or I'll use you for target practice!" I cut off the call and slammed the mobile down, growling in annoyance.

"I'm guessing that was not at all interesting information." Harry guessed.

"You can say that again. I am forever surrounded by idiots, I swear. I am actually running a criminal empire consisting entirely of idiots." I let my head drop on top of Harry's chest, hoping for more calming hair stroking.

"Well it wouldn't be that easy if they were clever now would it? They'd be so much harder to break and would constantly be asking why, and quite possibly would tattle to the police... Plus when they mistakes we can punish them, which is fun." Harry's hands ran through my hair again, again he had a point.

"And people say you're just another minion." I smiled at him.

"Nah, I'm much better. You're actually _fond _of me." Harry smiled back sappily.

"I guess you could say that yes. I'd say more of a live in pet." I shuffled closer, curling up against his chest.

"Says the one curled up like a cat right now." Harry smirked; I smacked him on the chest with a mock shocked look.

"Behave; I can still chuck you into the Thames." I put no warning behind the words.

"You could, but you won't. You like me, because I'm your Tiger." Harry shook his head, trailing fingers up and down my arm.

"You got that right." I agreed, curling up closer, deciding to sleep for a bit, hoping stupidity would be reigned in for a few hours at least.


	18. Chapter 18

**Pudd forever - i think it's a good mix of the two personally! like classic Busted and R:A McFly! and same, i really can't wait for another one to come out! :D**

* * *

17 Harry's POV

Dougie, as always, got up before me, leaving me to wake up alone in a cold bed. I groaned to myself, missing the feeling of my Consulting Criminal laying against my chest. But I was used to it by now, Dougie was rarely still in bed when I got up, his over active brain didn't keep him asleep for long, he barely made it through six hours without waking up with another brilliant scheme.

I decided to stay under the duvet for a few more minutes, before crawling out, throwing on a tshirt and pyjamas bottoms and wandering off to find Dougie. I found him exactly where I thought he would be, at his desk watching video of Intercontinental Street. There were times Dougie was like a dog with a bone, once he caught onto something he _did not let it go. _This seemed to be his newest obsession, though I sort of didn't blame him, this Tom was being a bit of a pain, had started solving our crimes. He needed getting rid of before he found us and took down Dougie's empire. This had to be nipped in the bud, as soon as possible, though Dougie did want to play about a bit. It wasn't often he got fun people to play with like this; I guessed he could have some fun.

It didn't stop me wishing he wasn't spending so much time on them though, there were other things to do, other crimes to set up, and general business to do. Currently Dougie wasn't taking on any new clients, only continuing things with pre-existing clients, unless there was a job we could do to involve Tom and Danny into it. I didn't like where this was heading...

"Harry stop standing there, you're not a statue. If you have something to say, just say it." Dougie sighed, not even looking away from his monitors.

"Nothing, not thinking anything." I decided it was best to not rattle the cage, or attempt to bite the hand that fed me. I had more leeway than other people around here, but I wasn't immune to being killed, despite what I'd said before our sleep. Gentle teasing was fine; telling Dougie that I didn't like his new obsession was another matter. It wasn't a good thing to say in the first place, let alone when he'd been moaning about being bored before Tom came along, I couldn't tell him to get rid of it just like that.

"Good, now come over here. I need your opinion on Jones." Dougie beckoned me over, so I followed, sitting myself on the arm of the chair, "He's an ex-soldier right? And you saw his shooting skills; do you think he's a threat, assassin wise?" Dougie asked, glancing up to me.

"Maybe, that was a crack shot I will admit. Would have taken nerves of steel, and a lot of training to be that accurate." I answered, watching Danny Jones wander through the flat with a plate of what looked like beans on toast. He sat in a large, comfy looking armchair, facing another armchair, filled with Tom, who was playing with his guitar currently.

"Okay, you were in the service, how strong did you think his morals are?" Dougie questioned, crossing his legs.

"Depends, what's our minions saying about his service record?" I reached out for his file. Honourable discharge, shot in action, never put a toe out of line, followed orders to the letter. Ah, typical soldier. "Looks like he's going to be a _very _tough one to crack. His morals are going to be strong, very strong in fact. Possibly impossible to break. He had no problem shooting the cabbie because he was killing others, he'll have no problem shooting us if needs be." I'd seen many people like him; they were the ones to watch out in the real world. They were so morally good it was sickening, and generally had no problem taking matters into their own hands when they believed a wrong was going on. Danny wasn't going to be turned to our side if that was what Dougie had planned; it was _really _not going to work.

"So he's going to follow Tom to the end of this, not going to ever leave him to it, and be ready to protect him through everything we throw at them." Dougie summarised, I nodded. "Great, but he's also going to be a pressure point for Tom, they're dating. That means that we can use him in the future against Tom. Not sure how yet, but I'll use him... I could strap him to some semtex... Oh that is a good plan. Create red mist out of him." Dougie smirked; oh that was a good plan.

"Tom would _not _enjoy that, he likes Danny." I giggled, imagining the blondes face watching his boyfriend explode. He'd be crushed, possibly would go completely mad...

"Oh, that would be funny to see." Dougie agreed, rubbing his hands together.

"Boom." I made the appropriate 'explode' hand motion, Dougie laughed again.

"Oh yes, we'll be using this plan, in time, we'll be using that. Red mist will be made, oh yes it will be. For now though, we must mess with Tom a bit, confuse him, meet him incognito. Oh yes, incognito meet ups." Dougie laughed... Okay, maybe this obsession could lead to some good fun.


	19. Chapter 19

**Pudd forever - same here! i miss seeing them live so much, i want to go back to seeing them again! and to hear new music, i can't wait for the album! :D**

* * *

18 Dougie's POV

As I watched the live feed from the Intercontinental Street flat, I plotted and planned my way round my entire plan to take down Tom Fletcher. His little pet Danny Jones would be of barely any issue, I would still kill him, but he was second priority for the moment. If he proved too much of a threat, then I would kill him first, but currently he was secondary. Of course, that was providing I didn't get bored and decide to see Tom's whole world go crashing around him, send him _really _mad. Currently though, I had to start making him mad... And that was going to be the challenge. I'd started dangling the bait, give him the knowledge that he had a fan, but I had to continue, really start to drop hints and give him little puzzles. _Watch him dance in circles, trying to figure out who I was. _

Well, therefore I needed to start dropping more crimes around for him to solve. And I had to implement them at the right time, not too many, that would be too use, but not too few either. But also did I give him obvious clues that it was me doing this? If I didn't, he wouldn't know, wouldn't be interested. Right, so my victims had to be sure to say that I was involved... Maybe I could commit a few crimes myself too, _really _grab Tom's attention. Yes, I'd make a few of my own too. Why trust others when I could do it myself?

"Sir?" A minion knocked on my door.

"What?" I called, pushing Harry off of my chair and spinning round to face the door. Couldn't let the minions see us so close, might make us _domestic _and _normal. _How hateful.

"You wanted updates on all of the cases Tom Fletcher takes on?" The timid woman came in, not making eye contact, eyes resolutely staring at the floor.

"Yes, what has he taken on now?" I held out my hand for the file in her hands.

"He, he is investigating a bank... There was a break in, graffiti left on a painting... The man whose office it was is dead." She gave me the file, which sounded familiar...

"Sh*t, that's one of ours." I swore, after looking at the file, I realised why I recognised the idea of breaking and leaving graffiti on walls. It was one of _our _clients. A Chinese gang of smugglers, posing as a circus, smuggling in 'lost relics' from all over the world, selling them to the highest bidder. They must have found a weak link in their ranks, threatened him, and then dispatched them quickly when they didn't cough up. An honourable way to run a business, but still, a little less obviously would have been nice.

"What do we do for this lot?" Harry asked, looking over the file over my shoulder.

"We give them links to smuggle goods through. And visa's to get over into this country to carry out business over here, and wherever else their business takes them. You're dismissed, leave." I explained, shooing off the minion.

"Right, so they've killed one of their smugglers, so what? What does this mean for us?" Harry leant further into my chair as the minion left.

"Well Tom will expose the smuggling ring and dissolve the part that resides in this country. That ring brings in several million a year, just in the UK exports, that's a loss I'd really rather not have. Or have to rearrange things to set up a London base again." I sighed; the leader of the gang was competent and kept her men in line, brought in good merchandise. I'd rather not have to watch her get arrested and subsequently killed so she didn't talk, before replacing her.

"Okay, what are we going to do about it?" Harry looked like he was waiting for an assassination order, and that didn't sound like a too bad idea.

"Well, the painting graffiti is a message in the smuggler language, there is only one person in London who isn't in the ring who will correctly translate the message. We need to get to her first. And we need to silence her, _forever._" I smirked, especially the spark returned to Harry's eyes.

"Oh really? Simple assassination or robbery gone wrong?" Harry enquired, that excited energy filling his body, he _loved _these types of missions. Especially two on the trot.

"I'm thinking a little more obvious, with something added in to interest Tom, let him know that we're still here and he's not to forget us." I giggled, "Let me find the file on this young girl. She's only little, barely twenty-five in age, shouldn't be too hard to kill her. And I'm going to accompany you this time." I continued, sliding over the file cabinet, pulling out the right information on our little target. She wouldn't be much bother, a quick neck snap would do it, she'd be found eventually, with a small calling card, just to make sure Tom got involved.

"Oh, coming out on the job to watch me work today? How lucky am I?" Harry smirked, coming up behind me, hands landing on my hips.

"Very lucky, now down boy, you'll get your payment after you kill her in about two hours. Don't bring any weapons; all you'll be needing is your bare hands today." I gently pushed him off, heading out of the door with my long coat and sunglasses, knowing Harry would follow, unable to resist the idea of a good murder, no matter how easy they would be.


	20. Chapter 20

**Pudd forever - it would be! and i listen to Air Guitar practically every day, at least 3 times at this point on my various train journeys! i'm in love with it! :D**

* * *

19 Harry's POV

Dougie nearly _skipped _out of the room and down to the waiting car, hyped on the idea of a good murder. I had to smirk to myself as he did so, having missed this enthusiasm, and while it was still about Tom, I couldn't help but feel excited too. This was big; we were starting The Big Plan, showing our first moves in the game, more than dangling the carrot in front of Tom. We were putting a block in the way of his investigation, and probably distracting him from it completely when he realised that the name 'Dougie Poynter' was not a onetime thing. This was _real _and we were going to have a great game against him.

"Our target is going to be in her flat, so all we have to do is sneak in and snap her neck, and leave. Should take twenty minutes tops I reckon." Dougie looked out of the window, twiddling a card between his gloved fingers.

"What about leaving traces? We need to clean those." I was sure we'd leave _some _trace if we walked in like we did now. A fingerprint, a hair follicle, skin flakes, _something. _

"Good job I've had our records wiped then isn't it? You're not on the army database, DNA and everything has been wiped. Neither of us have fingerprints because we've burnt them off, and if we wear these," Dougie shoved some overalls into my arms, "fibres will also not be a problem. These shoes are brand new and weighted so that'll throw off forensics on our previous whereabouts and our height, weight, etcetera... What are you doing staring at me? Get changed!" Dougie turned to look at me, so I rushed to get changed, admiring his preventive measures.

He also got changed into a similar outfit, before we exited the car, breaking into our victims flat easily. She was sleeping at present, completely unaware of our presence as we snuck into her bedroom.

"Go now, kill her." Dougie pushed me forward, a spark of insanity in his eye. Insanity and _pleasure, _he did enjoy a good murder, especially when I committed it.

I smirked too, creeping closer and quickly grabbed her head, snapping her neck before she even had a chance to act. It was over in seconds, the girl went from sleeping to dead, looking like nothing had changed. In some ways, she looked like she was sleeping still; the only thing that stopped that image was that her neck was at an incredibly awkward angle.

"Move her head back, stage it." Dougie ordered, still smirking as I did it, putting head back into original position, "Now for the final touch." He continued, placing a card next to her hand on the pillow.

The card itself was pretty simple, just a business card. Jet black with gold lettering stating 'Dougie Poynter, Consulting Criminal' with more gold detailing around it. Eye catching, simple, to the point. Sort of like our business dealings.

"Sure that's enough to catch Tom's attention?" I asked, unsure if it would.

"Of course, he'll hear about it either from Scotland Yard or come here first, looking for someone who can translate the code. Either way, he'll find it. If not, we'll give him another calling card, and another and another until he _pays _attention to us." Dougie nodded, surveying the scene for a second as I stuck a tiny camera on the doorway, so we could see what happened in the room when she was discovered.

We were broken out of it by the bell ringing in the flat.

"Quick, get out of here." I grabbed Dougie's wrist and we jumped back out of the window of the flat, ducking into the car and driving off, passing the front of the flat, looking at the sight of Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones for the first time close up.

"Oh I can't wait to take those two out." Dougie grinned as the detective and blogger stood ringing the bell of the flat until Tom gave up and went round the back, "They're quicker than I thought. Oh this will get fun." Dougie continued, "But for now, I think it's time you got your reward." He turned to me, jumping on top of me for a blinding kiss, that insane twinkle sparking so bright in his eyes it was almost blinding.


	21. Chapter 21

**Pudd forever - i'm pretty sure at this point i couldn't know them any better! xD and are you excited for the album?! i've just pre-ordered it and i'm SO excited for it! :D**

**Also, quick thing, if switching between Tom and Danny's conversation and Harry and Dougie's is a bit confusing, tell me and i'll change the font or something so it's easier to figure out who's talking where! :)**

* * *

20 Dougie's POV

Arriving back at the mansion, we stumbled out of the car, barely dressed and giggling like school boys, riding on the high of an assassination and starting out great game with Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones. Hmm, I liked that, The Great Game; I may have named this whole operation after that phrase, it sounded better than The Plan and was more accurate, because we were playing a game. We'd placed the first pawn since they'd discovered us, the game was _on. _

"Mention any of this and we'll kill you." I warned flippantly at the driver, skipping up the stairs to get to the camera feed up on my laptop.

"Dougie Poynter, Consulting Criminal?" Danny was saying, a confused look on his face as he stared at Tom, who was holding the card.

"Yes, it seems we now have a job title for our new mystery man." Tom nodded; turning the card around in his hands like that would give him some answers.

"So we have a job and a name, think we'll get anything from that?" Danny asked, _wow _he was a slow human.

"No, Consulting Criminal is an original job title, and seeing as it's not going to involve anything legal, I doubt they'll be a website or anything of the sort. It's likely he's the only one in the world." Tom shook his head, putting the card down and examining the body.

"What like you?" Danny bent down to look too.

"Obviously. Probably another case of bored genius, needing to do something that stretched the mind, like I do." Tom nodded, "No fibres or anything on the body, I doubt we'll find fingerprints or skin flakes either. They must have known what they doing and took many precautions, so we can almost certainly discount the footprints as they'll be some sort of preventative measure to stop us identifying them that way." He continued, glancing at the footprints on the floor. They were so faint they were almost untraceable, just a small disturbance on the carpet. _Our plan was working perfectly. _

"But how come this guy seems evil then? If he's so like you, what's making him kill, while you _solve _crimes? And they? How do determine it's a 'they' instead of singular person?" Danny followed Tom with his eyes, asking all the most mundane questions. How did Tom put up with him? I'd have thought he was _slightly _special to make him stand out, but it looked like he was just as plebeian as they rest of society. Wow I was disappointed in Tom for that. At least with Harry he was interesting in the fact that he was more inclined to kill like me, and wasn't afraid to exact violence, or experiment on live humans for me. This Danny must have been good in bed or _something _to excuse Tom's terrible choice in companion.

"The differences between a sociopath," Tom pointed to himself, "and a psychopath," he pointed to the card on the table, "makes all the difference. Sociopaths are out for themselves, and I like puzzles as you know, and I quite enjoy a good chase. This Dougie seems to have a predilection for murder instead, a more psychopathic tendency. And as for the fact that there are two of them, there are two different sets of footprints that don't belong to us. They're both faint on the carpet, with no traces of mud and dirt, so I'm going to say that there were two of them here. One of them most likely to be Dougie himself. He wouldn't have left anybody to do this specific killing and to leave this calling card either. He came along with a trusted individual; one he knew could complete the task and not screw it up. Someone who knew what they were doing, someone who he probably shares a deep bond with, hence the trust. Psychopaths don't particularly trust others, this accomplice has to be _very _special to him, they're probably partners, hence the joint trip out to kill a sleeping woman." Tom said at a ridiculous speed.

"He's good, _very _good. Near spot on there I'd say." Harry leant over the chair to watch.

"Well he's proven that he's going to be a threat at the least with that intellect." I raised an eyebrow in shock at the speed those deductions were made. No wonder this man was good, he was _brilliant. _

"Still not much of a chance to catch us, not with all our precautions." Harry shrugged it off, "I'm going to bed, I'm beat. Feel free to join me when you're good and ready." He continued, stripping off as he went. I barely looked up to get a quick look in of that perfect behind of his in tight boxers before it disappeared round a corner.

"But you're not a sociopath though, you're... Well whatever you are, it's not a sociopath. You care too much. And brilliant deductions as always, shall we call in Fletch to investigate further?" Danny squeezed the Consulting Detective's hand, a small smile on his face.

"If we must, ruin all the lack of evidence with his incompetent team, so much so they'll gather nothing." Tom sighed, like this was something he dealt with daily. Probably did, it was true that the police were _highly _stupid.

"Hey, enough of that. They won't get anything you'd have missed, true. But they may get a slight idea of the profiles of this guy, height and that stuff, which will narrow it down." Danny encouraged, bringing out his phone, calling up the police.

At which point, I turned off the laptop, knowing the events would be recorded to watch later. Right now I wanted to crawl into bed with a _very _sexy man and turn into a writhing, whimpering mess. I could look at the police being absolute morons at any other time I liked, right now, there were more important matters at hand.


	22. Chapter 22

**I was wondering, should I put a few Tom/Danny POV's in too, because I'm about midway through writing this, and am starting to think that it may work better with a few of their POVs in too, just to show how they're handling it, instead of just showing what they're doing through monitors and such, what do you think?**

* * *

21 Harry's POV

I barely slept that night due to Dougie, the little sod couldn't keep his hands off me, not that I minded, but it did mean that by morning I was exhausted and so decided to sleep in a bit, wrapped around Dougie's tiny body. It was possibly the best way to fall asleep, curled around him like that, barely covered by the sheets, my face buried in his neck, that feeling of warm closeness sending me to sleep.

Which was meant I was in for a big disappointment when I woke up alone. Again. For the third time this week. I should have been used to it by now, waking up alone, because Dougie didn't sleep much, that brain of his firing at all hours and keeping him awake, but it still hurt to have nights like _that _one, filled so much passion and frantic touches, barely even being able to stop him touching me for more than a few minutes at time, to wake up completely alone in the morning. I would have thought that he would have at least stayed in bed and run business from there, but no; Dougie was up and fully dressed by the time I dragged myself out of bed, staring at the monitors again, looking to all the world like it was any other day.

"Finally woken up then? Its half ten." Dougie commenting, twiddling a pen between his fingers so nonchalantly, like we were talking about the weather.

"Well you exhausted me last night, needed to catch up on some beauty sleep. What are you watching? Or do I even have to guess?" I stood next to him, my arm round his shoulders, hoping he would reciprocate by putting an arm around my waist. No such luck. But then again, since when _did _Dougie show affection outside of the bedroom, or after watching me kill or torture someone and he was really turned on? He didn't. I wasn't sure why I was expecting him to show me affection now.

"Just the police bumbling around our murder scene. As expected, they found _nothing, _and are rather confused by what is left of our shoe prints. They trod all over them, leaving barely any evidence left to work with. It's actually hilarious to watch them work like this, seeing them be completely incompetent. That alone is driving Tom mad; he's throwing some good insults out at the techs as it happens." Dougie explained, still with that gleeful looks in his eyes as he watched the forensics team scour the flat for any sort of clue, which we hadn't left behind.

"For God's sake! Why can't _any _of you see that there were faint footprints on the carpet! You've walked all over them and dislodged them! You're never going to see them now!" Tom was currently shouting, Danny telling him to calm down.

"Yeah calm down Freak, any sort of print was probably _yours._" A female tech was sneering at him, _freak, _that didn't look like a good sign for Tom. There was clearly some contempt there.

"Sure you didn't commit this one? Since you're such an expert on it." Another tech, male this time, sneered too.

"I don't murder people you morons, I _solve _murders that _you're _too incompetent to solve." Tom growled back, Danny glaring at the techs behind him. This seemingly happened regularly, judging by the fact that nobody looked all too offended.

"Looks like a regular occurrence at crime scenes." I commented.

"It is, Tom was saying earlier than barely any of the techs or policemen will work him. Fletch will and so will another called Tommy Jay Smith on occasion, other than that, everybody at Scotland Yard, or any part of the police force, despise him. The only reason he's allowed anywhere near crime scenes and such is because he's listed as a consultant by Fletch, who has a soft spot for him, and because of his sister in the government, who seems to have power over these things." Dougie explained, _interesting. _

"So basically, if he comes up with a theory about us, they'll not likely listen, apart from Fletch and possibly Smith?" I asked, Dougie nodded.

"If anything, they'll blame him for this. All of the comment on him being a psychopath and that he'll one day snap and start killing people himself, because he'll get bored. Tom won't, he's far too moral for that, but they all believe that of him, and belief is _everything._" Dougie smirked to himself, clearly thinking that the police could be made to think that Tom was killing these people and nothing would dissuade them from that thought, "The power of suggestion is a powerful thing. Especially when you're suggesting that someone, who is already very unlikable and considered a freak and a psychopath, who happily calls himself a sociopath, is the one being accused of being a serial killer. They already suspect it; all we need to do is reinforce that suggestion, all the while giving him clues as to who we are." He continued, rubbing his hands together.

"So the clue for him is the calling card?" I had him nodding, "So he'll try to figure out who we are and prove we did it, while everyone else thinks _he _is the one killing these people and trying to throw the trail off him... But I thought we were making him go boom with explosions?" I was now confused.

"Oh we are. But we're going to discredit him too. Make sure his reputation is never recoverable, that _everyone _thinks he's a psychopathic serial killer. All those little fans of his, the ones who believe that he's brilliant and wonderful, make sure they never think of him as a hero ever again. He's going to be a villain by the time we're finished with him. A villain who turns into red mist, never to be seen again." Dougie started laughing, a plan concocted if I ever did see one.


	23. Chapter 23

**Quickly updating a day early because I've got a manic uni day tomorrow, before seeing the Frankenstein play with Benedict Cumberbatch at the cinema in the evening!**

* * *

22 Dougie's POV

I couldn't gain anything more from the police searching the crime scene, but now I knew that there was more we could do with this plan now. I thought we could just kill Tom, but no, with the police _hating _Tom as much as they did, we could use that to our advantage. The police would be so willing to believe that Tom was a bad guy, a psychopath, it would only take a small amount of suggestion to get them believing that he'd murdered a few people, that he was _behind _the cases he solved. His reputation would be destroyed, in completely tatters; no-one would _ever _take him for cases again. His last few days would be a mad scramble to prove his innocence, because he'd no doubt avoid arrest to prove it, knowing he'd never work cases again and possibly spend the rest of his life in prison before we killed him.

Every single conviction he'd been a part of would be looked over, every case he was a part of under scrutiny, and by the time they realised he was innocent, it would be too late. Tom would be dead. And then I'd be free to continue with my own business, no-one would ever find me. All they'd have was a name, just a simple name. No finger prints, no DNA, no evidence to say that I'd done anything. I'd be a ghost, the king of the criminal underworld, the spider in the middle of the web of crime. Just as always, only now I wouldn't have anybody trailing me. And unfortunately nobody to play with... Well, I still had Harry; he could torture someone for me to entertain me.

For now, I had a game to play, and a lot of plotting and planning to do, all while still running the criminal underworld. Hopefully the idiots could do their jobs and keep things running over smoothly while I planned our next murder calling card, all the while figuring out how Tom was going to be framed for murders through suggestion. Simply _telling _the police things wasn't going to work, there had to be some evidence somewhere of something...

_James Bourne. _

Oh I was _good; _I was _very, very _good. I was a genius! Even more genius than usual! Oh yes, I'd been an idiot, of course I could use that! My first murder, of course! I burst out laughing at the realisation, making Harry jump from his gun polishing on the other side of the room.

"What the hell Dougie? Seen something funny?" He raised an eyebrow, continuing his cleaning without even needing to look.

"No, the police are morons, not funny. No, I've just had a _brilliant _idea on how to blame Tom for at least one murder, an ancient murder, one that no-one thought was a murder... _until now._" I grinned, jumping up from my seat and racing up to one of the spare rooms, where I kept trophies, starting to rummage through the boxes and cabinets to find the shoes.

"What ancient murder? What are you on about?" Harry leant against the door, looking altogether very confused.

"My first murder Harry! The very first one I ever did! There was a boy, when I was eight, who went to a nearby school to me. His brother was in my year and the two always picked on me for being little and intelligent, so I put an end to it. I killed the oldest, James Bourne, and made it look like a simple accident." I explained, remembering back to killing that twelve year old, remembering the horror of the entire school at the news, the younger brother Chris being devastated. Nobody noticed me when I snuck into the changing rooms and took away the evidence.

"How'd you do it then? You've mentioned it, but never told me the full story." Harry asked, still standing by the door.

"James was always a keen swimmer, did contests and everything, but he had very bad eczema. So the day of the big swimming competition, one that had the whole of both schools to go and see, I poisoned his eczema cream with Botulinum Toxin, the stuff you find in Botox injections. It soaked into his skin and paralysed him while he was in the water, and he drowned in the middle of the race. He couldn't be revived or anything, but it was ruled a drowning as the toxin is untraceable in drug tests so there was no trace of anything untoward in the autopsy. I took the shoes in all the commotion of the ambulance so there was no evidence anywhere of anything being poisoned, the police were slightly suspicious due to his missing shoes, but they ruled the death an accident and so let it go. Tom read about it in the papers, and tried to kick up a fuss with whatever he had uncovered, but nobody believes eleven year olds who have no proof of anything, no matter how clever they are. So all these years James has thought to have drowned, but if we set Tom out to prove that he was killed, while he's in possession of the shoes, put a few words in some places with the right people, he may be suspected of killing the boy himself. He'll have had the shoes, and he'll have found the traces of the toxin, which nobody else would. James also died in London, where Tom has grown up; it'll cause a bit more suspicion on him, possibly be enough to get him arrested to gain more evidence." I explained in a hurry, finally digging out the shoes of James Bourne.

Now all we had to do was plant them in Tom's flat, or somewhere in the 363 flats, point him in the right direction and get him to solve the case. He'd need the police, and possibly the morgues help to investigate, and we'd have to go in undercover to plant suspicion. But we could do it. The trick would be not to alert him to our presence, and to do this at the right time. After a few more murders, possibly a kidnapping too, to get the police desperate to solve the latest serial killer while Tom desperately tries to figure out who I am. Oh the game was _so _on!


	24. Chapter 24

**Pudd forever - because he was in his way *shrugs***

* * *

23 Harry's POV

The information about Dougie's childhood murder didn't surprise me in the slightest. I'd known that he'd been in the crime business for years and considering that he was still only young (aged twenty-six) that he'd had to have started young. Though, aged _eight, _that was so young, at that age I'd been still playing with my Action Man toys, wishing I could be as cool as him. I'd sort of achieved that dream; I had been an army man and now was a well kept assassin. Cool I was not, but I was feared and the right hand man to the most powerful man in the international criminal world, which was _far _better than being something as simple as _cool. _

"Eight, huh? You really did start young." I commented after Dougie's long winded explanation of the murder, watching him continue to dig through his trophies.

"_That _is all you got from that explanation? Typical." Dougie rolled his eyes, throwing another box out of the way, luckily nothing smashed, "Ah-hah! Found them!" He grabbed a plastic crate, yanking it from the pile and running down the hall again.

He went into a room that we seldom used (not hard in a mansion like this) that was actually cleaned regularly, but otherwise kept untouched. It was mostly bare, only containing a table and a few bits of computer equipment you would find in a lab. We used it whenever handling evidence or anything we needed to keep clean from traces. This was obviously one of those moments.

"These are James' shoes; I've kept them all these years just in case I needed them in a situation like this. They're still in the exact condition they were in when I stole them from his locker, all the evidence of the murder on them, just like I need them to be." Dougie grinned, pulling the trainers from their box, setting them on the pristine metal table.

"Right, and handling them is fine?" I questioned, thinking of the poison Dougie used, I wasn't exactly keen on being paralysed and dying just yet.

"Yes of course, its trace evidence on here anyway, just use gloves." Dougie chucked a pair of latex gloves at me, so I pulled them on, feeling safer that way.

"So we're just going to plant these in Tom's flat and hope he goes to the lab to analyse them so we can point some sergeant or other in the direction of him being responsible for the murder?" I raised an eyebrow, it sounded a bit like a precarious plan if you asked me.

"Basically, yes. Tom will have to go to the lab to run tests on the shoes. He hasn't got the right equipment in his own flat, so he'll have to do the tests at the lab. Now suggesting to the police he's responsible will be tough as they won't know about the shoes in his own flat, ohhhh unless we leave _one _in his flat and the other with... Oh I'm brilliant! I am absolutely brilliant!" Dougie giggled, jumping in excitement.

"I know you're brilliant Dougie, but what are you on about? Where are we leaving the other shoe?" I asked, so confused as he laughed.

"We leave the other with a victim! A kidnap victim! Oh, a _child, _we'll kidnap a child, someone easily scared, find someone who looks like Tom to do the kidnapping and dress him similarly, so the kid thinks it's him who's kidnapped them. We get him on the chase for the child, who has the matching trainer, and when he finds the kid, the kid _screams _in fear of Tom, as they've mistaken Tom for their kidnapper due to their similarity, and the police arrest Tom for the kidnapping! That is brilliant, that is absolutely brilliant! They'll have the kid as evidence, as well as the shoe he has in his possession, which is damning evidence in itself. But he'll try to escape; he's guaranteed to escape to prove his innocence with his blogger which'll end in more charges against him. He'll last a few days, until we call him in to finally meet us and solve the whole thing himself, which he won't be able to resist and then we have a small chat and _blow him to pieces. _Oh this is brilliant, Harry I am brilliant! We need to do a few more murders first, really make it look serial, get him on our trail. He's already searching for us as it is. We also need someone who looks like Tom and someone to get replicas of his clothes, and find a high profile child to kidnap." Dougie kissed me in excitement, running out of the room and almost tripping over himself for his lists of contacts, because _of course _he had contacts for lookalikes, high fashion clothes, and lists of high profile people he could kidnap for leverage in tough times.

"Now _that _is a plan I like! Can we send him taunting messages too, really drive him crazy trying to figure out who we are and what we're doing?" I rubbed my hands together, grabbing the list of possible kidnap victims.

"Of course we can! We'll have to text him a few times to make sure he's on the right track and not getting distracted, but we can also send a few more, tease him that he's running out of time, that he's not doing so well, anything like that. I hadn't actually thought of that, I knew I kept you close for a reason other than good sex, Tiger." Dougie pulled me close, giving me another kiss.

"Well I am learning from the best." I shrugged like it was nothing.

"Of course you are. Now come on, find us a kidnap victim so we can send some people to scope out the kid's routines so we can find a good time to get them." Dougie pushed the file closer to me, setting me to work.

"Shouldn't we be looking up murder victims instead?" I asked, they were the priority for now, right?

"No, they've got to be random. Completely random. Men, women, children, all ages. All different parts of the country, different settings, different murder methods too. It's got to look completely random, so random it's almost impossible to figure out they're connected, apart from my business card. That's the only thing that can stay the same, everything else must be different. If it isn't, it'll be too easy for Tom to figure out; we need to make it _difficult _for him. So we'll pick targets while we're out on location." Dougie explained... That was fair enough.

I flicked through the book for a bit, until I found a good kid to use, daughter of a diplomat, high profile, but not something like the prime minister's kid, which would cause a bit _too _much attention. We needed attention, but just the right amount, too little wouldn't be as fun and too much would give us too little amount of room to move.

"Oh she's good, I like her. Cute by normal standards too, cute usually also makes the police investigating a bit desperate to find the kid. Something about cuteness meaning innocence or some other human sentimentality." Dougie waved off the cuteness, but pulled the file on the child closer, "Yes, she'll do. She'll do just fine." He pulled out his phone, ordering a watch on the girl's school and home life before grinning at me, "Want to go start our _real _murder spree?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Anybody any excited as me for McBusted 2015?!**

* * *

24 Dougie's POV

The next day, me and Harry set out to the outskirts of London, deciding to start slightly locally, to make sure Tom was called out to the murder, or would at least be in contact with someone who would tell him about it. We hung around just outside Harrow, looking around for someone to kill. I wanted to pick an easy target this time, just to start us off, despite the fact that I knew how skilled Harry was.

"I was thinking; let's make a night of this. Go out for a meal in celebration or something." I leant back in the chair I was sitting in, crossing my legs.

"Celebration of what?" Harry asked, turning to me.

"You know, the start of The Great Game. The start of having the best spree imaginable." I explained, looking away from scanning the crowds to look at my assassin.

"Hmm, alright." Harry agreed with a smile, leaning next to me.

"Good, I've already got us a table booked." I grinned, getting up and dragging Harry to the nearby restaurant I'd booked this morning. It was, as I directed, completely empty. Dining with others was never anything I'd willingly do without reason. All those _people, _useless cattle wrapped up in their own little pointless lives, barely able to think properly. It was all so _dull, _how they survived I didn't know, worrying about stupid things like what others thought of them, did they look good in their clothes, _bor-ing! _If they put half the energy they used to think of that into things more useful, like _committing their own crimes _I wouldn't be as bloody busy all the time... Actually, that was a good thing. I got bored enough with my workload, I would be ridiculously bored if people grew more than three brain cells.

The point was that I hated people, and so cleared out restaurants whenever I went out to eat. Removed the distractions of the human populace from the equation, and got the waiters to wait hand and foot on me. Everything was always perfect when I arrived, because everyone working there knew that I could topple them in seconds if they failed at their jobs.

"Nice atmosphere in here." Harry looked around the brightly lit room, sliding effortlessly into a seat as it was pulled out for him, as was done for me too.

"Glad you like it." I smiled, flicking through the menu, watching the waiter twitch nervously out the corner of my eye.

"I-I there anything I can get you Sir? We have a brilliant vintage 1979 red wine you may enjoy." They tripped over their words, hands shaking as they poised to write my answer.

"Just give me your best meal and wine." I didn't care much about vintages or anything, just that it tasted nice.

"I'll have the risotto I think, cheers." Harry handed the menu back, before relaxing into his chair again.

"Ready for tonight?" I asked, knowing full well he was, but liking to ask.

"Of course I am, can't wait. I packed everything I could in the car, in case of any eventuality for our target." Harry smirked, oh the clever boy.

"Guns, knives and everything?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh. None of the torture stuff though, figured this would be a quick, clean one today. Though you give me the word and I'll have everything we'd need to play with our temporary friend before we dispatch them." Harry nodded, sipping the wine as it was brought over.

"Oh I knew there was a reason why I liked you so much, always prepared for every eventuality." I praised, biting into my meal. It was good, but not the best I'd ever had.

"Well it's what I'm trained for. Just transferred that preparation from saving my life and others to taking them. It wasn't hard." Harry shrugged, taking a bite of his own.

"Fair enough... How many people did you save in the army by the way? I've never asked." I was curious, wondering if his death toll outweighed his lives saved.

"Saved one hundred lives in the army from bombs and other people shooting at them, generally by shooting the armed guy first. I killed forty while out there saving those hundred and then once I got with you that toll has gone up to, oh... I think about one hundred and fifty. To be honest I've lost count and forget which tortured lot got killed and which died of natural causes and which were actually let go. And that's not including the people I've beaten up for you too... God that's a long list." Harry thought, impressing me with the numbers.

"Not bad numbers there. Better than mine for sure." I nodded along, continuing my meal.

"I doubt that, come on, give me your numbers then." Harry encouraged.

"Well directly I have killed with either my bare hands or by poisoning, etcetera, ten people. That was before I got lackeys to do it all for me. So if you include everybody I've ordered to kill then that raises to three hundred, indirectly when you count all the drugs and gun moving then I have no idea. Huge amount. Far too many to count, and would take a slight bit of effort to calculate." I answered, watching Harry's jaw drop.

"And you say that _I've _got an impressive record?! Jesus Doug, that's insane!" Harry looked rather impressed.

"Meh, I guess it's impressive. But it's just business really, it's fun and all but it's all mostly a part of the business." I shrugged, I had to admit, I liked impressing Harry. He wasn't easily impressed, so to get him impressed, I must have done well.

"Still, damn you're good." Harry grinned.

"I wouldn't use that word to describe me Tiger." I laughed, good was definitely not a word I'd use to describe myself.

"Well, evil then. You're brilliantly evil, and I love it." Harry raised his glass.

"I'll drink to that." I clinked our glasses together, downing the rest of the glass, "Now, shall we go and start the game?"


	26. Chapter 26

**Pudd forever - neither can i! **

* * *

25 Harry's POV

We finished our meal and our talk, going back out to where we'd been originally, sitting in a park together, watching teenagers starting to drink by one tree, a few couples taking walks together, a couple of dog walkers and several people just out running. All easy targets, taken down simply and without fuss. The drunken teenagers would be the easiest due to their inebriation, couples slightly harder as there were two of them to deal with, dog walkers ridiculously simple and the joggers _slightly _difficult as they could obviously give chase. Every single one I studied, picking out weaknesses, trying to find one I fancied.

"How about that one." I nodded towards one person, walking by themselves. They looked perfectly normal, not overly muscled, but not unfit either. Might give a bit of struggle, but other than that, they'd be easy. A simply follow to a dark alley, a slit to the throat, downed in seconds.

"He'll do nicely. Got a plan?" Dougie agreed, eyes not leaving our victim as he sized him up.

"Corner him in a dark alley, slit his throat, he'll be down in about two minutes." I said, the target was about average height, dyed blonde hair from the looks of his roots, dressed in fashionably tatty clothes, clearly not bad off, but no indication that he was of any importance. Not that we cared if these people were 'important' or not. All that mattered was that we killed them and left our calling card, nothing else mattered. If anything, important people had security on them; they'd constitute a challenge at least... That could be fun.

"Good, he's ours." Dougie grinned, before slipping into a more relaxed persona. I did the same, the two of us casually talking about the mundane to pass under the radar, until the target passed us, we waited a few more seconds, before getting up and following. I already had my hood up to disguise myself from cameras; Dougie had put on a snapback, pulling it low on his face for the same effect. We'd even donned more casual clothes of jeans and trainers to look different in case of cameras about, though we'd already checked for them.

We followed at a distance, until the man picked up that we were following him. He sped up as much as he could without running, probably thinking that he was being subtle, he really wasn't. If anything, he was being _too _obvious about his worries. I could almost _smell _the fear on him, which was making him walk faster, faster, jogging... _running. _

The second he started running me and Dougie started running too, he was slightly behind me as I jumped over faces and walls to cut the distance between me and our target. If Dougie was late, he was late, I was the killer in this situation, and I had to keep up. So keep up I did, sprinting after our victim as he tried desperately to outrun me, managing to only tire himself out.

And then he made the fatal mistake.

He ran down a dark alleyway, a dark alleyway with a dead end. The _moron. _He ran into the wall, turning round to look at me with such a fear stricken face it was almost funny.

"Please! Please don't hurt me! I-I won't say anything to the police, but please let me go!" He begged, whimpering pathetically as Dougie joined me.

"Oh is he begging for his life?" Dougie asked in a sing song voice, turning his head to the side to survey our pray.

"P-Please! Let me go! I-I'll do anything!" The man begged, pressing back into the wall.

"How cute, he thinks we'll want him for something. Love it when they beg." Dougie giggled, eyes sparking as he saw me pull the knife from the sheaf on my ankle.

"I-I didn't do anything to you! Please l-let me go! I-I'll do anything just let me go!" The man started crying, pathetic wimp.

"You can stop crying and be quiet is what you can do. Now go and get him Tiger." Dougie pushed me forward. I ascended on our target, pinning him to the wall with no effort at all, slitting his throat and shoving him to the floor to watch him bleed out.

It took less than three minutes for the man to die, clutching at his neck like that would stop the blood flow.

"Ugh this alley is disgusting." Dougie observed after the man fell still.

"Well that was the plan. Now put down that card and let's get out of here." I glanced behind us. The street was empty, and there were no windows around us, no chance anybody saw that.

"Good plan, before I have to spend hours in the shower to get rid of the smell." Dougie placed his card in the body's clean hand, before surveying his work for a second. "Done, now we better go." He pulled out his phone and called up for a car to bring us home, which came only minutes later, the two of us going back to our mansion. The game had begun!


	27. Chapter 27

**Pudd forever - i got tickets to the second London date, i can't wait! :D**

* * *

26 Dougie's POV

It took only two hours for the body to be discovered by someone who lived in the flats next to the alley, a further half an hour for the police department to turn up and another thirty minutes for Tom and Danny to turn up after it had been discovered that there was no evidence on the body apart from the business card.

"You know of this Dougie Poynter then?" Detective Inspector Fletch asked Tom at the crime scene, looking flummoxed.

"Not personally, heard of him before though, from the girl from the museum who had her neck snapped in her flat. The one where your _specialists,_" Tom spat the word like it was dirty, "trampled all over most of the footprint evidence."

"Ah, that one... But this is a completely different kill method, that doesn't make much sense." Fletch continued to have the same look on his face of complete and utter confusion.

"No it doesn't, not yet..." Tom trailed off; staring down at the card I'd left in the victim's hand.

"Well are they are ideas on what's happened to connect these two victims? Or if it's even the same Dougie Poynter and not just a copy cat?" Fletch put his hands on his hips expectantly.

"It's the same person, the cards are identical, and the card was never mentioned in any police statement, can't be a copy cat unless it's someone on the force, which is highly unlikely. And these two victims must have dealt with Dougie in the past, gone to him to fix up their crimes or something along those lines. He could have been clearing up his lose ends, but that wouldn't explain the cards, that would be too obvious, like he's calling us - Oh..." Tom had a sudden realisation.

"Good boy, that's it, realise what I'm doing." I encouraged as I watched the live feed, hand running through Harry's hair as he slept next to me.

"What? Tom what's going on?" Danny prodded the Consulting Detective.

"He's playing a game; he's initiated a game with me." Tom answered in a whispery voice. Not in fear of course, more like anticipation and a bit of awe. _Oh yes. _This was going to be so much fun when he got his teeth sunk into this. I could feel my heart start to flutter a little in anticipation of running rings around the man, playing with my prey before I sprang on him, destroying his reputation and tearing it to shreds.

"He's _what?_" Danny raised an eyebrow, arm tightening around Tom's elbow, _protective. _

"He's playing a game, seeing if I can keep up, testing out my ability. _Catch me before I kill again, leaving no clues but a calling card. Stop the Consulting Criminal._ The Consulting Detective versus the Consulting Criminal, a battle of wits to stop death and destruction." Tom answered, my _God _he was dramatic! Well, I must admit, I liked dramatic, meant his reactions would be better. And, I had a dramatic flair myself, if only he wasn't on the police's side, we could have made brilliant partners, we could have been _unstoppable. _

"Okay, dramatic much Tom. But are you saying that he's going to keep on killing people until you work out who he is and stop him?" Fletcher asked.

"Yes, he's going to carry on until I catch him. He's caught wind of me, wants to test if I'm as good as I say I am." Tom started, another police officer muttering something like 'self entitled prat' under their breath, earning a glare, "He's going to try and take me down, the same way I'm going to try with him." He continued while glaring.

"What?! Are you serious?!" Danny practically shouted, panic setting in his features.

"Why would he do that?" Fletch asked, _wow _the police were slow.

"Wouldn't you? Someone as clever as you, trying to stop you from having fun. Wouldn't you want him dead? Or at least incapacitated, so he couldn't take you down?" Tom explained, oh he was good; he knew the entire game already. _Good man. _

"Well then you're not going after him! I won't let him try and kill you!" Danny got defensive, the hand on Tom's elbow tightening even harder.

"Well what else do you want me to do? He's not going to stop until someone figures him out and we all know that Scotland Yard aren't going to do it! They can't even handle evidence properly! This man is clever, as clever as I am, and he wants a game, I'm going to give him one, take him down while I'm at it." Tom shoved Danny off him, glaring at him for even suggesting not taking this on.

Oh he was stubborn as well, like a dog with a bone; he was going to be _so_ much fun to play with! I almost wanted to wake Harry up to tell him, but I decided against it. The man looked exhausted, still bearing red bite marks over his collar bone from earlier in the evening. Plus, he looked kind of, well, _sweet _as he slept. So innocent. A tiger cub compared to the barely tamed animal he really was in his waking moments.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you everywhere! I'm not letting you out of your sight, got it? You're not getting hurt because of this maniac!" Danny growled out, also stubborn... Could I play it against them? No, probably not, they were stubborn and were disagreeing, but both were a bit too moral to play against each other. Also, the sentimental problem of them being a couple got in the way, they knew each other intimately, they'd never betray each other like that.

"Don't you always? Now come on, we need to see some the higher power to get a more extensive search going." Tom started to drag Danny off.

"You mean your sister? Oh _here _we go." Danny rolled his eyes, but got in the cab, the two of them heading off to begin the search that would come up with nothing. They didn't have a simple job on their hands, they had to _earn _their prize of finding me, and I would do everything in my power to make it impossible for them.


	28. Chapter 28

**First Tom POV of the fic, let me know what you think, cause i'm not totally sure about it at the moment!**

* * *

27 Tom's POV

I stormed into the government office, glaring at anybody who tried to act like I wasn't supposed to be there. Everybody at this point knew who I was, but they knew I caused trouble, was the bane of my sister's life, so they tried to keep me out. Not damn likely at this moment though, I _needed _to see Carrie right now, this was beyond important. We had to find the man doing this, and the police were being even more useless than usual. Their database had _nothing _about a Dougie Poynter, and I needed answers _now. _

"Ah Tom, what a pleasant surprise to see you here. What can I do for you this morning?" Carrie smiled smugly up at me as I burst into her office, barely a hair out of place.

My sister was an incredibly orderly person, there was never a piece of clothing out of place, or hair, or anything. Her blonde hair was wildly curly, but she kept it tightly controlled in a bun behind her head, and constantly dressed in a sharp suit. Everything she did was controlled, or involved control in some way or other. She had to; she _was _the British Government herself, sometimes MI5, and CIA on occasion, generally anything like that.

"You know exactly why I'm here, I need your database, the police database is rather useless." I moved her out of the way to take over her computer.

"Tom, manners." Danny raised an eyebrow at my behaviour.

"We don't have time for manners, plus _she _doesn't mind." I jerked my head towards Carrie, while typing in every variation of Dougie Poynter I could into Carrie's database. It was far more extensive that the police could ever dream of, listing every psychopath, sociopath, or any other person who could be potentially dangerous to the country/state/world. The police only had those who had committed a crime, this one had _everybody. _

"I'm used to his lack of manners by now Danny. It's just how Tom is, I'm sure you're used to it." Carrie sighed, watching me type, "Dougie Poynter, another criminal you're chasing this week?" She raised an eyebrow.

"A Consulting Criminal." I offered in answer, scrolling through the results, _nothing. _I tried typing in 'consulting criminal' and got... nothing.

"You're database is awful, how does it not have anything on something as different as a 'consulting criminal' while _I'm _on this list?!" I stood up, waving a hand at the damn screen. How was _I _on this list and not someone like a _consulting criminal?! _

"Because you're one who claims to be a sociopath, and you work with the police, so you're on the list. Danny is on the list because he runs around London with you on your adventures." Carrie explained, Danny gasped.

"I'm on a government watch list because I hang out with him?! He's not even a sociopath!" Danny shouted, eyes widening in shock.

"Of course, even though Tom _isn't _a sociopath, he _claims _to be one, while working with the police, which needs to be watched closely. I thought you knew this." Carrie looked perplexed at Danny's shock.

"And that's the 'reason' as to why Carrie watches us so often, I saw it's more of an overprotective pratt thing, but there you go. Now it's useless standing here, because your database doesn't have anything on it about consulting criminals, or Dougie Poynter's, so we'll have to look elsewhere. Come on Danny." I stalked out the room, hoping that there was information _somewhere _on this Dougie.


	29. Chapter 29

**Pudd forever - great! i'm glad about that! :D**

* * *

28 Harry's POV

I was very rudely woken up by Dougie shoving my shoulder to roll me off him.

"Hey! What was that for?!" I growled, rubbing the pushed shoulder.

"Needed you to stop drooling on me so I could get up." Dougie answered, giving me a look that could only be described as a 'b*tch face,' like I _made _him shove me.

"I do not drool!" I defended myself, yanking on a pair of boxers and getting out of bed, stretching to work the kinks out of my neck.

"Well maybe not drool, you wouldn't still be in my bed if you did. But you get my meaning. Now where's my phone? Ah-ha! There it is!" Dougie grinned, picking up the phone and chucking a pair of jeans at me.

"Why do we need the phone? Need to call in a favour from someone?" I asked, yanking on the trousers.

"We're meeting another business associate today. Despite our plan coming in place, we do have to deal with other business as well." Dougie sighed, like it was a huge task. Meetings with other associates weren't exactly bad, but for Dougie, they were terminally stupid, so he got annoyed with them very, very easily. As in, he wanted to kill them the minute they opened their mouths because they were so stupid and didn't understand instructions. It always left him hating most of humanity, and a generally bad mood for the rest of the day.

"Ah, how stupid is this one?" I asked, yanking on a shirt and hoodie. I didn't need to make a good impression, I was Dougie's bodyguard, meant to stand there and glare at the client/associate/whatever they were to intimidate them.

"Incredibly. He can smuggle in guns, drugs and whatever else he wants. But can't organise a murder of some political leader without help." Dougie rolled his eyes, teasing his hair into submission, straightening his suit out. He looked formidable like that, a tailored suit and stern expression, exuding power and intelligence. His skin was still deathly pale, devoid of most colour, his blue eyes looking grey. To some, he may have been compared to a dead body, but I thought he looked beautiful like that; the right cross between handsome features and terrifyingly bored expressions. Nobody would cross him; nobody ever _dared _cross him, especially when he looked like this... Though those bored expressions would probably lift soon, when he started taunting our client, his face always came to life then. His face and his speech, turning sing songy and teasing. Still utterly terrifying, but also _insane. _Because that was what Dougie was, underneath the intellect and the planning, he was utterly insane. Made no point in hiding the fact that he was a psychopath, if anything, he _revelled _in it.

"Harry stop staring and drooling again. I know you're thinking about how scary I look," It always freaked me out how he read my mind like that, "but I need you to focus. The idiot needs to be told exact instructions down to a minute detail and if you look dreamily at me that's going to throw him off." Dougie sighed again, "I can't scoop out your eyes to stop you, because then you'll be rendered useless to me, and so it'll be easier to kill you, so just quit staring for a bit. You got some last night." He continued, straightening his tie, patterned with small skulls, to match his skull cufflinks.

"Can't really help it Dougie, you just look so sexy dressed up like that." I ran a thumb over his cheek, leaning down for a kiss.

"I know, and while that is lovely to know that you are still thinking with your d*ck instead of your brain, you have to switch to your _actual _brain. We need to get going, so switch and move. And pack your gun, you can never fully trust drug and gun lords." Dougie pulled away before I could plant a kiss, bouncing down the stairs.

I sighed to myself, wishing he was more affectionate when we weren't in a sexual situation. I knew he didn't love me, and never would, but he only slept with me, kept me close to him, closer than anybody else around him. I called it a relationship, not _boyfriends, _because that just sounded far too frilly and pansy-like for us, but I thought we were in a relationship. It would be nice to be able to give him a bit of affection every once in a while that wasn't right after a murder and Dougie was so turned on by the sight of blood he jumped me.

"Tiger get your ass down here or I'll leave with another assassin!" Dougie shouted, I grabbed the gun from the table and followed him, meeting him by the door.

"Glad you could make it. Hurry up next time, these things are time sensitive." Dougie hissed and got into the car.

"Sorry, was making sure the gun was loaded." I lied, tucking the weapon into the back of my waistband and getting in too.

"No you weren't. You were still thinking about me." Dougie smirked in amusement, in a 'humans are so cute and adorable with their emotions' kind of way.

"So what if I was? You're hot. It's allowed on occasion, especially with a relationship like ours." I defended myself again, slouching back in the seat, watching out the blacked out windows.

"I guess. But focus now. If you're good, I'll give you a reward later." Dougie smirked, his hand on my thigh with promise.

"Fine, but get your hands off, I'll get all inappropriate before your meeting, it probably won't go down well." I shoved his hands off.

"If you wish Tiger. Now we're going to the old meeting place, with no cameras. Tom's big sis in the government is starting a search for us. Now there's no way we'll be recognised from last night due to the fact that there were no cameras where we were, but I'd like to keep a low profile for a while longer." Dougie explained, I'd been half wondering what was going on with our Fletcher problem...

"Fine, so the old shipping container by the abandoned dockyard?" I started mentally pulling up the schematics of the place, remembering everything I could about the place.

"That's the place. Remember all the exits and everything?" Dougie asked, I nodded, "Good boy. Now focus for me. Our client is one of the smugglers from Russia, he isn't to be trusted. He wants to kill some political power or other who is trying to push a smuggling crackdown and wants him removed. I'm going to send out one of our snipers to kill the guy, if he doubts the efficiency of the snipers in our arsenal; I want you to show how good you are." Dougie ordered, "Fists or whatever it takes. Take out his bodyguards if needs be." He continued.

"Right... I'm not going to be doing the Russian hit though, am I?" I asked, I hoped not. I thought I was a part of The Great Game; I didn't want to be shipped off to Russia and miss the fun!

"Of course not! I need you for more personal hits and our game! I'll send one of the others out." Dougie gave me a 'are you really that stupid' look.

"Good. Shall we send Willis? He's good, discreet. He knows Russian and very good at long distance." I suggested, Matt Willis was one of our better snipers, had performed countless hits for us in the past. I'd seen his work several times, he was rather clever when needs be.

"Hmmm, hadn't thought of him. Yes, we'll go with him, he'll do nicely. Though tell him to dye his hair back from that blue colour, he needs to be practically invisible." Dougie made a small disgusted sound at the mention of the hair.

"Of course, I'll get right on it when we get back." I promised, forgetting about my small insecurities and everything else, focusing on the current meeting and mission in hand.


	30. Chapter 30

**Pudd forever - I couldn't resist putting in a little reference, I love all the things he does to his hair!**

* * *

29 Dougie's POV

We arrived at the meeting spot, getting there before our associate did, and so could set ourselves up inside the shipping container. There was a bullet hole in the right side, caused by my own gun a few years ago, and as I stood by it, it cast a lovely light over me, highlighting my face and nothing else. It mostly dark behind me, where Harry stood, arms crossed, waiting for the other car to turn up.

"I hate the waiting." Harry groaned, looking around the small container.

"I know Tiger. But he'll turn up soon. He's never late usually." I assured him, feeling his restlessness radiate onto me.

"He better not be Boss. I'm bored." Harry huffed, that was new...

"You've never called me Boss before." I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well you call me Tiger; I want a nickname for you too. You don't like Doug and have threatened to knock my teeth in if I come up with anything as equally 'stupid' so I thought Boss might work. Cause you know, you are my boss. A boss with benefits, but still a boss." Harry shrugged, good logic there.

"Not bad logic there, I like it. I think we'll keep it." I did quite like it if I was honest. It sounded good, could be used around minions and not be suspect of anything. Plus it didn't demean me like most nicknames; all of them were usually so pansy like and vomit inducing. This was good, showed everyone just exactly who was in charge here. The king of crime was still in power, hadn't fallen for an assassin, no matter how good or sexy he was.

"I hear the car." Harry whispered, the two of us snapping back into position, him in the shadows, me up front in the small bit of light from the bullet hole.

"Ah, Mr Yelchin, good to see that you remain reliable with your timing." I greeted as the drug lord walked in, dressed in a badly tailored suit, flanked by two bodyguards for hire. Even I could take them down in a minute if things got rough, Harry was going to be bored in seconds.

"I don't like to disappoint as you know." Yelchin said in perfect English, though the Russian accent remained strong.

"Good, so I trust that your trading is still going strong? We only need to stop this little bump in the road so business can continue as normal?" I raised an eyebrow at him, expecting a good answer.

"Yes, things are booming. The drugs are going better than the guns for obvious reasons, but things are going brilliantly. Once the 'little bump' is dealt with, we can increase our transport rates by another 5%. That's not much I know, but anything more helps, am I right?" Yelchin laughed slightly nervously. I had that effect on people.

"Very true. So we need to sort out this politician, tell me his name and I'll send a sniper out to dispose of him. You won't even have to lift a finger; just lay low until it's done." I offered, having gotten this all planned out. Taken me all of five minutes. Send out assassin, shoot the guy, and come home. Why this guy couldn't do it himself I didn't know.

"A sniper? How do I know that he'll be accurate and hit the right target?" Yelchin said the magic words.

"Tiger, show them what we're capable of." I turned slightly to Harry, watching him pull a gun and without batting an eye, shot at one of the hired guards.

"OW!" The guard shouted, putting his hand to his neck, where there was now a gaping hole through. It was millimetres away from his carotid artery and his oesophagus. He'd live unfortunately, but it did hurt like hell.

"I could have nicked anything in his neck there; made him bleed out in seconds, cut off his airway, paralysed him. But I elected for him to live, angled it perfectly so it would just hurt like a b*tch. If I can do that, what makes you think we'll miss a big target like a head with a long range sniper with better sights on it?" Harry stared at his gun, turning it this way and that in admiration... Did he understand just how _sexy _that just was?!

"See Yelchin, we are very good at what we do, I only employ and seek out the best of the best. You can sleep safe in the knowledge that this'll go without a hitch. It'll be untraceable too, and certainly won't get traced back to you." I turned back to the drug lord, giving him a look that just _dared _him to continue doubting me.

"Oh, oh okay. Good, good. I wasn't worried about traceability... Stupid of me to even consider that you didn't have the best snipers. I'll just... Thank you for helping and giving me a solution to my problem. I-Is there anything else I can do for you?" Yelchin stumbled over his words, backing away slightly. I was tempted to roll my eyes and tell him to stop snivelling like a baby, but decided against it.

"Nope." I popped the p, "Just make sure that our smuggling business continues. I won't be pleased to know that it's been halted, or even _slowed _by incompetence. If I find that out that it has, I'll personally fly over there and set Tiger here on you. You won't make a nice corpse." I threatened, watching the man scamper out of the room and break in a full out run to his car, the body guard barely able to keep up.


	31. Chapter 31

**Quick update before I have to start today's load of assignments and coursework that I've been given this week. **

* * *

30 Harry's POV

Dougie burst out into laughter as the drug lord ran off, tripping over himself to get out of our way. I allowed myself a laugh too, because that _had _been a bit funny.

"That guy's face, surprised that he didn't pee himself!" I giggled, pocketing the gun again.

"He was shaking in his boots!" Dougie joined in, his eyes sparking dangerously, "No, no don't kill me! I'll follow you anywhere Dougie! Just don't shoot me!" He crouched into a cowering pose, hands over his face, using a high pitched voice with a slight Russian accent, "Moron. Now come along, we need to set Matt off on his mission." He stood and headed back to our car.

We travelled to a gym, where most of our undercover operates came to train together. I sometimes came down here too, just to test out my skills against them, keep myself in top condition. So far, I was an undefeated champion of the assassin gym. I wasn't sure if it was because they weren't stupid enough to hit the boss' right hand man too hard or if I was actually better than them. If felt like I was better than them, they never felt like they were holding back, but I could have possibly been wrong, I hoped I wasn't... Nah, I was probably wrong. Dougie would have no doubt told me by now, the little sod saw _everything, _could practically read minds, he'd have known.

"Alright, listen up! Where's Matt Willis?! Got a job for him!" Dougie clapped his hands together, looking around in delight at his army of assassins. There were twelve of them, not including me, each as deadly as the last. Most had their own specialised way of killing, but all were expects in hand to hand combat and brilliant with guns. Right now, we needed our best sniper who wasn't me. And that was Matt.

"Right here! What you got for me?" Matt jumped down from the bar he was doing lifts on.

"Hit order. Russian political guy, he needs eliminating. From our understanding, he has a lot of enemies, think you can shoot him and make it untraceable?" I told him, handing him the file that had been made up for us about the leader.

"Sure I can. Blood bullet through the brain should do it." Matt looked over the file.

"Blood bullet?" I raised an eyebrow, hadn't heard of that one before.

"Yeah, it's a new thing I've been working on recently. It's untraceable, cause the bullet is made of frozen blood, and what's more blood in an already blood filled body? It'll melt inside the brain before anybody can retrieve it. And even if they did, it'll be some random donor blood. It also can't be traced back to me, or any of us, because you guys are the only ones who know about this currently, nobody else has perfected it, and if they did and started bragging about it, well they'll get the fall. Trust me, have I ever let you down?" Matt explained, that was genius. Absolute genius.

"You'd be dead if you had disappointed me. I like your style, and your action plan. Now go and make it a reality, this needs to be done quickly. So go and sort it out." Dougie waved him off, "Tiger, want to go play with the cubs?" He turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, maybe some other time. Plus I'm not in the mood. I just shot someone; I'm good for the moment with murderous feelings." I shrugged, not really feeling the need to maim anybody right now.

"And what a good shot that was Tiger. I was impressed, didn't know you had _that _much accuracy, or good knowledge of the human body." Dougie grinned, I could tell he'd liked that, he always liked it when I showed off so casually.

"I just know the best places to shoot to secure maximum pain, or certain death, or pain without death." I'd spent weeks studying that, getting it deadly accurate.

"Well it certainly paid off didn't it?" Dougie grinned, a warm feeling spreading through me. I did rather enjoy impressing him, I had to admit.

"I'm glad it paid off." I smiled back, feeling hands land on my back, guiding me back to the car.

"Oh it paid off alright. You scared Yelchin brilliantly, _and _impressed me. You'll have to show me more of what you know." Dougie followed me into the blacked out car, his hand wandering to rest on my thigh.

"Of course I will, shall I show you on our victims for Tom?" I asked, leaning back in the seat, liking holding the cards in the situation.

"Hmmm, well they'll die anyway, no reason why we can't play with them first... And I guess we could find some others to practice on too, make use of our basement. That's been shut for far too long." Dougie pondered it for a few seconds, "Oh that would be fun actually. Demonstrating on live human models... Oh this could be great, for when we get bored again." He continued, a pondering look on his face.


	32. Chapter 32

**The blood bullet idea was shamelessly taken from an episode of Bones, I thought it was a rather cool thing to do!**

**Pudd forever - I don't mind, I love your comments, keep them coming! :D**

* * *

31 Danny's POV

Tom paced for over two hours straight, wearing holes in the carpet as he stepped. He was grumbling to himself the whole time, his hands pressed together in front of his face, as he always did when thinking.

"Tom, come and sit down. You're getting obsessed with this." I sighed from my seat, wishing Tom would just _sit _for a minute. He'd been racking his brain for days, getting nowhere fast with this. And now, he was ignoring me in favour of continuing to pace and mumble to himself.

"Tom, sit down! You're not going to find an answer right now, this Dougie isn't on _any _database, and you're not going to come up with an answer when a computer couldn't!" I yanked the man down onto the sofa, breaking his concentration at last.

"What do you want me to do then?! Just _sit _here?! I can't just let this go, people have died, and more are going to unless we catch him!" Tom growled, giving me his worst glare at my interruption. Lesser men would have crumbled at the look, I held still, used to its terrifying intensity.

"No, of course not, I just want you to sit still for a bit, take a small amount of time to sleep and eat. If you carry on pacing like that and working yourself up, you're going to end up passing out. I don't want you to pass out, okay?" I reached over and stroked his hair down. It had fluffed up in all his tugging and pulling at it as he thought.

"I'll be fine, I always am." Tom growled, though leant into my touch slightly.

"No, you won't be. I know you don't eat on cases, but currently, this looks like it's going to be a long haul one. Now what would be worse, going several weeks without sleeping or eating and collapsing, wasting time in hospital getting treatment, or eating something now and having a nap to keep up your energy? I think the second option is better, don't you?" I smiled gently at him, knowing just how badly Tom wanted this solved, but I couldn't let him continue like this. He was going to wear himself to the ground and never catch up to this Dougie person if he wasn't careful.

"Okay, fine. But if there's another murder, I'm not stopping for anything, got it?" Tom gave in, his bloodshot eyes closing momentarily.

"Of course, but for now, let's get you into bed, I'll make you some toast when you wake up, alright?" I led him to the bed, taking off his shoes and tucking him in.

"Alright... But you sleep too." Tom pulled me into bed with him.

"Is that your way of telling me you want me to stay?" I raised an eyebrow, and didn't receive a verbal reply, instead got an armful of blonde Consulting Detective. "I'll take that as a yes." I smiled, hoping the rest would do Tom some good. We couldn't be at our best if we didn't take care of ourselves, and I could tell that this battle with this Dougie guy was going to take a _while _to resolve.


	33. Chapter 33

**Pudd forever - thanks! :D**

* * *

32 Dougie's POV

Two days later, the political leader was shot dead, Matt doing his job well as there was no trace of what had shot the target, let alone anything else. No CCTV, no bullet, no trace of anything, just like I had promised. My assassins never let me down, nobody did actually, they knew what came to them if they disappointed me.

But now that that had been dealt with, I was back to watching what Tom was doing. Currently he was pacing his flat in frustration.

"There is no record of a 'Dougie Poynter' ever existing, no birth certificates, no death certificates, _no records at all. _It must be an alias, but how do we track that down with no records? I've sent out my homeless network and even they can't find anything. They have eyes and ears all over the city and not a single one can give me anything to work with!" Tom was grumbling, his hands pressed together under his chin as he paced.

"Well we didn't have much hope with the name anyway, because what lord of crime would actually use their own name? And does your homeless network even know what they're looking for in the first place? Because we sure as hell don't!" Danny answered, watching his boyfriend pace, playing with a pen.

"Of course we all know what we're looking for! We're looking for _whispers, _whispers of the lord of crime; he probably has operatives all over the city, all over the country actually, doing dirty jobs for him. He's the spider in the centre of a web and he knows _exactly _how every single string dances, has his hands in almost every big crime. Heists, murders, drug dealing, gun smuggling and human trafficking are probable as well. He's a _Consulting Criminal; _people go to him for help with their crimes, so they can pull them off without getting caught. This means that there are people out there coming into money, acting strangely, dying in freak accidents, disappearing, and he's behind it all. That causes whispers between colleagues, friends, and family. Things that the homeless network overhear and report back to me. But currently there is _nothing. _Nobody even saw anything when that last body turned up! We don't even have footprints to go on right now thanks to the morons at Scotland Yard!" Tom growled, throwing himself into his chair in frustration.

"He had to be good though, to be able to avoid arrest for this long." Danny offered unhelpfully, dear God, _why _did Tom spend time with that insect? Must have been sentiment, pointless emotion that.

"You _still _watching the live feed of Intercontinental Street? I thought we had minions for that." Harry fell onto the sofa next to me, speaking of sentiment...

"Our minions are idiots. Plus this is far more interesting than anything else going on right now." We'd just had a politician in Russia killed and increased drug and gun smuggling rates, everything else was ticking over nicely, clients were being ridiculously boring, this was _far _more fun.

"Anybody would think you're in love with Tom, the amount you watch him." Harry sounded sad at that. I was still slightly baffled for his fondness of me. At least it kept him loyal and by my side, exactly where I needed him.

"I'm a psychopath Harry, I can't love. But I can get annoyed, and if you carry on whining about me keeping up with our new toys, I will not hesitate stabbing you in the eye with a fork." I reminded him, I was a psychopath, I was incapable of love. Sure, I was _fond _of Harry, he was good in bed, and an amazing assassin, but I didn't love him. I might have done if I wasn't a psychopath, but if that was the case, I would have pushed him away. Being in love was a weakness, could be used against you, I couldn't have weaknesses. Someone as formidable as me had to be free of weaknesses, free of anything of the sort. Good job I was a psychopath, I got to keep him.

"Damn, I still have the scars from the last time you stabbed me in the leg with a fork." Harry unconsciously rubbed his thigh.

"Exactly, so quit moaning and let me work. If you want to be useful, go and have a brawl with the others in preparation of our next murder. Tom's getting frustrated, we need to keep up the interest." I shooed him off again, he groaned and lay back on the sofa instead. "I said go and be useful." I hissed, not liking direct disobeying pets _at all. _

"Yeah, and _I _don't need to go and have a brawl. I'd rather save up all that energy and all those ideas for our next murder. For now I'd rather sit here, possibly order food in. Fancy an Indian?" Harry asked, putting his feet up on the table.

"You're manners are yet to be desired it seems." I rolled my eyes at his feet placement.

"No, they were ingrained as a child in posh toff school; I just threw it all out after the army. Now food, I'm ordering Indian, want some or not?" Harry raised an eyebrow; I gave in and told him to order me something too. He did as told this time, leaving me to continue watching Tom turn over the facts of the three victims so far. Jefferson Hope the cabbie, where he'd been put on our trail, the translator girl, and now our latest victim. And as I planned, _nothing _connected them, not even the same kill methods were used, all that kept them being seen as my victims was the mention of my name.

Everything was going exactly as I planned, I could see Tom getting frustrated as he thought it all through, pulling every single angle he could. And he was getting the right idea. I was playing with him, watching him dance like my other threads, biding my time before I killed him. But he had no way to stop me, which was his causing his frustration, he didn't know what I looked like, didn't know my name, anything.

"Is Dougie Poynter actually your name then, considering he's asking?" Harry asked.

"It is, but I had the records wiped a while ago. Burnt the certificates, hospital records, school records, everything. I technically don't exist." I answered; I'd done that at eighteen, figuring it was a good plan at the time. It had certainly paid off.

"Fair enough." Harry answered as the doorbell went.

"Hold this, I'll get the food." I shoved the laptop in his direction, stalking to the huge front doors, yanking it open to find a spotty teenage boy.

"Order under Harry Judd?" The kid asked, I nodded, "That'll be twelve quid mate." He said in a nasally voice, handing me the order.

"Sure let me get my wallet." I smiled sweetly, putting on the nice act as I reached for a knife. Before he could react, I stabbed him in the stomach, twisting it round to cause maximum pain. I yanked it back out, watching him drop to the floor and blood pool out around his twitching body.

"You couldn't be allowed to live I'm afraid. You've seen me and heard my partner's name, its lights out for you." I watched the light go out of his eyes.

"Clear up aisle three!" I laughed towards the servant quarters. Three qualified ex-crime scene cleaners rushed out and started cleaning up the mess of the body on the floor as I dished up the takeaway.

"Was that necessary?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, he heard your voice and saw my face. You've never moaned before... Ah sh*t, I got blood on my feet! That's going to leave a mark." I sighed as I saw the red liquid cling to my feet.

"Good job we've got tiled floor then." Harry grabbed his plate, shrugging off anything in favour of eating; catching me up on what Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones had gotten up to.


	34. Chapter 34

**Pudd forever - haha! **

* * *

33 Harry's POV

By the time we'd finished our dinner, most of the blood had been cleaned from the hallway, and the body was being disposed of by the cleanup crew. Dougie had also washed his foot of blood, looking absolutely immaculate again, not a hair out of place. It surprised me how he could do that sometimes, could go from a bloody-footed killer of a delivery boy to what could pass as a normal business man, if just an exceptionally young one, in minutes. Well, I guess that was what Dougie was. He was a business man, just a bit of an... _unorthodox _one.

"Harry please stop staring at me, I understand that you're attracted to me, but there's no need to be staring like that." Dougie rolled his eyes like this was completely normal... Okay, it kinda was. But could I help it really? The man was could _model _with boyish good looks, could go from a charming young man to a psychotic killer in seconds, with the biggest brain I'd ever come across. Could I help but be attracted?

"Well you are rather attractive. You know that, we never go anywhere without turning heads." I smirked, climbing the stairs behind him, glancing at that rather perfect backside of his.

"I have noticed. I also observed you getting jealous of the stares." Dougie commented dryly, heading towards the bedroom.

"Well I got territorial okay? You're all young and pretty with a sense of power behind you; people of all ages go a bit weak kneed looking at you. Especially desperate housewives, you're like crack to them, I swear." I joked... sort of. I'd noticed the signs of bored desperate housewives; all of them stared at Dougie like he was their ticket out of their boring lives, practically ready to prey on him. I got territorial over him because of it, despite knowing that Dougie could care for himself pretty well, could teach all of those women a lesson or two in learning when to react to hot young man.

"No problems to me as long as they don't see me doing something naughty," Dougie giggled a little, "Aren't ordinary people so _cute _with their infatuation with the good looking and young? You get looks as well you know; you're also seen as rather attractive by the general populous." He continued, shedding his clothes as he headed towards the bathroom.

"Meh, haven't noticed much, too busy looking after your ass." I laid down on the king size bed.

"And you do a wonderful job of it. Now get over here, we need showers." Dougie didn't need to tell me twice, I raced up and into the bathroom, being greeted by a kiss and a slam into the nearest wall.

"Harry! Get dressed in your gym clothes!" I got shouted at, a hoodie being thrown at my face.

"Wha? It's... it's 4am! What the hell Dougie?!" I shouted right back when I realised the time.

"Exactly, now get up. We're going killing." Dougie's eyes started glinting with that serial killer crazy look he got whenever murder was brought up. And I couldn't say no to that face...

"Fine, fine. So what's the plan, or is there one at all?" I asked, yanking on the clothes I'd been thrown.

"We're going to an all night gym. There we're going to find a victim, who will likely be _alone _in said gym, and we're going to kill him. More importantly, _you're _going to fight him and kill him. Stretch those survival skills you've laid to waste these past few months." Dougie explained, already dressed in a hoodie and track suit bottoms.

I hadn't seen him in something so casual since our trip to Las Vegas for a last minute sting operation against a badly behaved client. _That _had been a fun trip, we'd won a tonne of cash (through cheating of course) had a lot of sex _and _tortured someone to death. The body still hadn't been found.

"Oh really? Thinking I'm slipping are we?" I looked at him sceptically.

"No. Just testing you. You can't fight the others to the death as we need their skills. This time you will be, simple. Now get moving!" Dougie grabbed a calling card off the counter and we raced down the stairs, heading towards the gym near the area.

And as Dougie had predicted, it was empty apart from one other person, who was using a punch bag. I set myself up near him, making sure I was in his line of sight and his mine the whole time, starting to pummel the bag like it was the intended victim under my hands. Dougie went on a running machine, I'd never seen him step foot on one the whole time I'd known him. Never known him to exercise before either apart from a few training sessions with me, where I'd thoroughly worn him out.

After a while, I saw the other guy looking over at me, seeing the put on rage I was using on the bag, as per the plan.

"Bad day?" He asked conversationally, _finally. _

"Relationship trouble." I answered, landing a rather hard punch, making it swing wildly and the chains holding it up creak.

"Oh, girlfriend being a pain?" He replied, towelling off.

"You could say that." I caught the bag before it smacked me in the face, glancing quickly at Dougie, who was acting entirely innocently, just another gym goer.

"Ah, well at least its good fuel for a work out." He smiled casually. He was well built, about as built up as I was, but several inches shorter. It would probably take me a few minutes to take him down with my bare hands.

"Yep, especially with the amount of mixed messages I receive. One minute they're all over me, the next I'm just their minion." I could almost feel Dougie getting angry, _good, _I wanted anger him a bit, considering he'd gotten me up at a ridiculously early time in the morning and made me watch that live feed of Intercontinental Street.

"Ouch, tough one there. Let them go mate, they'll be no good for you, drive you crazy with the mixed messages." The victim clapped his hand on my back.

"I like crazy, crazy is good. Makes this easier." I started smirking; the guy looked worried, especially when the treadmill stopped running.

"M-Makes what easier?" Victim whispered, backing off.

"This." I threw a punch to his face, then his gut, winding him and shoving him to the floor.

The fight was over in minutes, the victim dead on the floor after I knocked him into a treadmill and cracked his skull open. But I didn't even get the chance to breathe before I myself was slammed against a wall, a small Dougie sized hand holding my arms behind me.

"Now that was a good job there Tiger, but a word of warning, if you _ever _use me to strike up a conversation again like that, I'll rip your tongue out and shove it down your own throat, got it?" Dougie hissed in my ear, pressing me into the wall _hard. _

"I was just trying to lull him into a false sense of security!" I defended myself, though didn't _dare _move. Dougie sounded _angry, _I wasn't messing with that.

"You better have been. And next time, don't make it about me, make some sh*t up, got it? No amount of taunting is going to make me love you or anything, you're a minion, a slighter better off minion, but still a chew toy that I can easily replace at any time I want."


	35. Chapter 35

**Pudd forever - it's alright, I know that feeling! I've been fighting coursework (one assignment to do in a week with weird formatting - torture wasn't in it!) and NaNoWriMo, busy doesn't begin to cover it! And the album is AMAZING, honestly, it is freaking awesome, I'm in love with it!**

* * *

34 Dougie's POV

I let go of Harry once I was sure he had the message, watching him choke in breath and clutch at his throat desperately.

"Could you have held _any _harder?" He coughed out, massaging his neck as he stood.

"Yes I could have, but I took pity on you because you did just take a man down with your bare hands." I glared at him. I was _not _happy him. He had actually tried to _mock _me, tried to make fun of me _to my face. _It got the victim talking, but I'd be damned if I let Harry get away with that trick again. It was not on, nobody mocked me, they usually got killed if they did. I only let Harry off because it was part of a job and because he was a good right hand man. Though if he pushed it too far I wasn't going to let him off for it, he'd end up just like everyone else, tortured and dead in a ditch. And I'd _personally _make him feel the worst pain imaginable before he died, no hesitation, no regrets. You did _not _mess with me and get away with it.

"Fine, fine. Won't happen again Boss. _Jeez, _what would you do if I snogged another guy?" Harry followed me out of the gym.

"I'd skin you, turn you into shoes. Rip out your tongue and shove it down your own throat and torture you for days until you couldn't take anymore. Then I may take pity and shoot you in the head, if not, I'll stab you through the stomach and make sure you _felt _it." I said simply, hearing him gulp behind me.

"Remind me to never cross you." Harry answered.

"Don't have to; you'll do well to remember it yourself." I replied, "Now take us home, I need to get out of these, I feel cheap and nasty." I tugged on the hoodie I was wearing. It may have cost £600 from Harrods, but I still felt cheap and nasty in it, like some lowly criminal. I missed my Westwood suits, _badly. _

"Right away Sir." The driver nodded and drove off towards home.

The drive was silent as I looked out of the window towards the quiet London streets. I quite liked the quiet of London at 4am; it was still busy, but nowhere near as busy as it usually was in the daytime. So much fun could be had in the quiet, people were usually so tired they didn't notice anything either, it was a perfect hunting ground for victims of any sort. Almost like a Wonderland of crime to be committed, as we just had done, _thank God for the night. _

We arrived back at the mansion in record time, also thanks to the lack of traffic, before I ran up the stairs, shucking the disguise as I did so. Just putting my pyjamas back on felt good and so unbelievably comfy compared to the sports clothes. Wearing disguises was all well and good for cases, but I would still prefer the suit (pyjamas at night time obviously) better than anything. It was more functional, I could do so much with a suit. I could look more intimidating and scary in the suit, but also could fashion it to look more like a weary business man down on his luck. It was the beauty of it, a suit was a better disguise than people realised, plus it was _beyond _comfy.

"Finally going to bed then?" Harry asked after I took a second to revel in clothes again, standing by the door, looking slightly nervous.

"Yes, it's 4am. I want to sleep for once, so get over here and get in too." I shocked him it seems, judging by the way his eyes widened in surprise.

"You still want me in bed with you? I thought you were still furious with me from y'know." Harry waved his hand to indicate our previous altercation.

"I got it out by threatening, you learnt your lesson. Now get in here right now, I'm used to you being wrapped around me like a leech." I didn't have to ask twice, Harry quickly stripped and crawled into bed. Though he was still hesitant in pulling me close.

"For God's sake, get over here you stupid twit." I yanked him over, pulling his arms around me and leaning against him.

"Sorry Boss, I just... We've never fought like that, you've given me so much leeway than others, I don't know how this goes now." Harry admitted, unable to look me in the eye.

"I can take that leeway away if you don't like it." I mused.

"No! No, I like that leeway! I just... I don't know what to expect when I anger you that much, usually the people who incur that wrath end up dead." Harry bit his lip, managing to look at me that time.

"You did incur my wrath back there; I took pity because you're pretty good at your job as it turns out. So I let you off. And after I've got the anger out, I'm fine. I don't hold grudges; I get the anger out and move on. So if it happens again and if you live through it, I'll be fine and want you next to me again unless I explicitly say I don't. Think you can remember that?" I raised an eyebrow at the end.

"Yeah, yeah okay. I can remember that... I won't be letting you down again though Boss, that I can assure you. I rather like my job here, I know I'll eventually die by your hand when I've lost usefulness, but I like working with you in the meantime." Harry nodded, tightening his arms slightly.

"What makes you think that you'll die by my hand one day?" I was curious; I hadn't told him that before.

"I'm an assassin; I know what happens to us when we run out of useful skills. We're killed off by our bosses, or killed on duty. Either way, we don't get lives after this, and I'm okay with that. I'd probably be dead or in prison by now if it wasn't for you anyway. I'm glad for the good fun you can give me instead, prolonging the inevitable." Harry shrugged in explanation.

"Like a prison could hold you." I rolled my eyes, getting away from the sentimental nature of this conversation. I didn't do sentimental, ever, if I could help it.

"Course not. Just using it as an example. Now go to sleep, I'm tired." Harry yawned, nuzzling down into the pillows and sheets.

"Don't tell me what to do." I warned lowly, leaning into his chest.

"Sorry Boss." Harry whispered before dropping off into sleep.


End file.
